


You and I

by emma_and_orlando



Category: Queen (Band)
Genre: Adopted Roger, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Blow Jobs, Family Feels, Fluff, Freddie and John are good parents, Idiots in Love, Kissing, M/M, Maylor - Freeform, Secret Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-13
Updated: 2019-05-13
Packaged: 2019-09-17 19:16:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 32,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16980252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emma_and_orlando/pseuds/emma_and_orlando
Summary: Roger is a 17 year old boy, years ago adopted by his two fathers Freddie and John.Brian is Rogers long term boyfriend, who comes from a strict conservative family.These are slices out of their lives.1. Caught in the act2. First dinner together3. A Christmas special4. First meeting5. An argument that ends up catastrophic6. Rogers adoption





	1. You and I are not supposed to meet up tonight

**Author's Note:**

> SHES BACK BACK BACK Again.  
> This time she’s going to be writing a fic in which Roger is a teen and lives with his dads Freddie amd John while dating tall and sexy Brian May. 
> 
> They’re both 17 and madly in love. Thank you so much for reading already. If this is well received I’ll add a chapter. 
> 
> This is my first smut dont kill me pls

[ Roger May: dads found out :( im in trouble ]  
[ Brian❤️: are they very upset? ]

"But the car is fine, dad. Nothing happened." 

John covers his face with his hands and sighs deeply. Roger immediately knows that he's in deep, deep shit. "You don't have a drivers license, Rog." 

"In a few weeks I'll have one." 

Freddie stands behind John and shakes his head frantically, mouthing 'just shut up!' 

Roger bites his lip and glances back down to his phone. His heart flutters every time he reads his boyfriends name flash on the screen. 

[ Brian❤️: they didn't kill you did they? ] 

"What if the police had pulled you over?" John asks with a raised eyebrow. 

[ Roger May: not yet. Dads not happy, probably cus it was his car lol ] 

Freddie pointedly clears his throat and Roger immediately looks back up. "Put your phone down while your father is talking, dear." 

"Sorry." He tugs his phone into his back pocket, before looking up to his fathers. He's seated at the head of the table, about to receive his punishment, while his parents stand over him with disappointment clear in their eyes.

Yeah, it sucks to be told off. But he shouldn't be punished too harshly in Rogers humble opinion. 

"Papa," He glances at Freddie with a pleading expression. "Please tell dad that the car is fine. He doesn't seem to understand it when I explain it, maybe you'll get through." 

"Dearest, Roger has a point. The car is still in tact." Freddie places a kiss on Johns cheek when his husband turns his heated glare from Roger to him. "But I'm definitely on your side, please don't make me sleep on the couch."

Roger scoffs and crosses his arms over his chest. "Traitor." 

"It's not about the car." John shrugs Freddie off, before pointing a finger at Rogers chest. "You could have gotten hurt, car accidents are not a joke." 

Roger sinks deeper into the seat to avoid eye contact with him. 

He makes a valid point and Roger can't do much else than to look regretful and cute as a last resort. Punishment is inevitable if he interprets Johns tone correctly. 

"You're grounded for two weeks."

Roger gasps, completely baffled. He'd expected three days or maybe a week, but this seems excessive. 

"Oh my God- you can't be serious!" 

"I'm very serious actually." John crosses his arms over his chest solemnly. "Stealing my car is one week, driving without a license another week." 

Roger glances at his other father with a pout. He can't go two weeks without social media and going out with his friends. He's supposed to see the new Star Wars movie with Brian next week, they already bought tickets and everything. 

"Papa?" 

Freddie is a sucker for Rogers puppy eyes and immediately jumps into action. "Deacy, Love, what about one week and the weekend?" 

"Two weeks, and I'm not negotiating." 

Freddie leans down to wrap an arm around Rogers shoulder and cups his cheeks. He points his pout up in Johns direction. "But look how adorable he looks."

"No." John narrows his eyes at his husbands antics. "You're supposed to be on my side, Fred." 

"I tried, kiddo." Freddie presses an apologetic a kiss to Rogers forehead, before stepping away once more. 

Roger groans miserably and lays his forehead on the table. "This is so unfair." 

He grabs his phone and messages Brian the latest news.

[ Brian❤️: well?????? ]  
[ Brian❤️: Oh dear they really did kill you ]  
[ Roger May: no im here. Grounded tho ]  
[Brian❤️: sucks babe. ]  
[ Roger May: two whole weeks of my life. You should ask someone else for star wars :/ fml ]  
[ Brian❤️: want me to come over? ]  
[ Roger May: You're not allowed to while im grounded 😭  next time ill see u is at school Monday ] 

John gently rakes his fingers through Rogers blond hair, trying to make himself look less like the villain Roger sees him as, before extending his hand. "Roger, honey, hand over your phone now." 

He knew it was coming, but he can't go down without a fight. "But dad..." 

John stops caressing his locks and forces him to look up from his lap. "No 'buts' and 'pleases', that doesn't work on me. I'm not your papa." 

Freddie snorts, but doesn't comment on the sly insult. 

[ Roger May: babe they got my phone :( . Love you...... farewell ]  
[ Brian❤️: love you too ]

"Now, Roger." 

Roger gets up from the chair and slams his phone on the table instead of Johns extended hand. Not caring whether he broke the screen or not, he grabs his backpack and stomps past his fathers to the stairs. "You two hate me."

"You know that's bollocks, dear." Freddie tries to grab his arm, but Roger skillfully dodges him. 

"Leave me alone." He grumbles and flees up the stairs, before he does something he might regret and be punished for too. 

"Brian won't forget about your existence if you don't text for one evening." John calls after him with a tad of sarcasm Roger can't appreciate now. 

He slams the door closed hard enough for the window to rattle. It's oddly satisfying. 

~~~

Roger has been upstairs trying to entertain himself with his homework and radio for hours, before Freddie knocks onto his door again.

"Darling, dinner is ready." 

Roger could already smell the delicious food coming from the kitchen a while ago. He hasn't eaten anything since lunch. 

Despite all that, he refuses. "Leave me alone pap." He murmurs miserably with his nose mashed into his book. 

He misses Brian.

"Deacy made your favorite dish, I think he wants to make it up to you." Freddie calls hopefully, Roger can imagine him smiling gently. Which used to soothe him almost always ever since they adopted him.

But right now, he can't see his father and he doesn't want to either. He's a little hormonal and irritated Freddie didn't take his side in the argument. 

Freddie knocks again to grab his attention. "Want me to save you some?" 

"Whatever." He grunts out, because knowing his father he won't leave until he at least replies once.

"We love you, darling. You're welcome to join us downstairs whenever you like."

"Don't count on it." 

Freddie sighs, but Roger can hear him shuffle away from the door and walk down the stairs quietly. The light in the hallway turns off and Roger falls back onto the bed with a pout.

He misses Brian. 

~~~

Roger is bored.

He's been laying on his bed for hours, face mashed into the pillows, completely bored and hungry.

John had confiscated not only his cellphone, but also his laptop. 

Usually he'd be watching YouTube videos around this time of the evening, or he'd be talking to Brian on skype or watch porn to blow off some steam. 

He's a teenage boy after all. 

But none of those are possible without his electrical devices.

He could go downstairs and play drums in the basement, but he'd have to walk through the living room where his fathers are most likely playing a board game or watching television. He doesn't want to face them yet. Not while he's still bitter over his punishment. 

He might try sneaking into the kitchen to grab a snack, because his stomach keeps growling angrily. 

And, worst of all he misses Brian with a burning passion. 

He groans into his pillow in annoyance. They usually see each other every day or sleep over during the weekends, but Roger had to come home from school immediately to receive his punishment instead of going to Brians house to 'make homework'. Or whatever other excuse they use to make-out in Brians room. 

"Pssssst Rog!" 

There's a sudden knock on his window that causes Roger to jump out of bed in surprise. 

"What the actual fuck." Roger walks over to the window and opens it with a frown. Only to find Brian sitting on the branch of the oak tree next to the house.

He looks wonderful. His hair is a mess because of the wind. He's wearing a thick winter jacket and he smiles as soon as his bright eyes meet Rogers. 

"Bri, hey." Roger laughs breathlessly in surprise, before leaning out of the window to kiss him. He feels relief wash over him as soon as their lips meet. "You climbed all the way up here to see me." 

Brian laughs quietly. "You don't have your phone and I became desperate." He slings his messenger back off his shoulder and hands it over to Roger. "Are you gonna let me in? I'm freezing my balls off." 

"Oh no, you'll need those." Roger winks playfully, before taking the bag from him and extending his arm out to help Brian into his room. 

It's a far reach, but Brian has long legs and the tree is pretty tall. Almost long enough to reach Rogers window on the second floor. 

It takes a few moments, but Roger finally manages to pull Brian through his small window and into his warm room. He stumbles a bit upon entering, but he manages to find his footing. 

"Don't ever get grounded again, because I didn't like that." Brian comments while dusting his clothes off. There is a tear in the back of his jeans, but Roger doesn’t comment on it.

Roger puts his bag down on the carpet, before practically jumping into Brians arms with joy.

He has been moody all day and looking forward to being held by his boyfriends familiar warmth.

Brian huffs at the sudden hug, but wraps his long arms around Rogers waist almost immediately to keep them from toppling over

Roger buries his nose into Brians warm neck and kisses the sensitive spot there to show his love. He smells amazing and comforting and Roger never wants to let go.

“I missed you, Bri. Thank you for coming.” 

Brian kisses his head and runs a hand down his spine in comfort. He’s aware that whenever Roger fights with his parents he becomes tense and irritated. 

He also knows that there are only two remedies for an irritated Roger. “I missed you too, I even brought you cookies.” 

“Cookies!” Roger gasps before he remembers to be quiet and lunges for the bag in the floor. “Are you a mind reader or something?”

Brian chuckles and sits down onto Rogers unmade bed. He takes the time to pull off his shoes and coat while Roger stuffs three chocolate biscuits down his throat.

“I’m so in love with you.” He moans with his mouth full. “You can have my babies.”

“I’m both flattered and confused.” Brian whispers quietly, he shifts until he’s laying against Rogers pillows and pats the bed. “Are you going to keep standing there?” 

Roger closes the bag, before licking his fingers off crumbs and chocolate. “No. I’m coming, just wait a second.”

He hides Brians bag, shoes and coat under the bed, then he closes the window to hide all evidence. 

“If my parents find you here, my punishment will last until my 18th birthday. In case me dads come inside my room, you go hide inside the closet.” 

“And here I thought my days in the closet had come to an end.” Brian snickers, before opening his arms for Roger with a warm loving smile.

“I’m still cold.” 

Roger bites his lip to keep himself from grinning too hard. It should be impossible to fall in love with someone a little more every time you see them.

But Roger feels his heart tug painfully every time he looks into Brians bright, perfect, dark chocolate eyes.

“Then let me warm you up.” 

Roger climbs into Brians lap and seats himself comfortably with one leg on either side of him. His crotch flush against Brians.

Brian rests his hands on Rogers hips and turns his face up for a well deserved kiss.

Their teeth clash in the desperation. Brians tongue filthy licks his way into Rogers mouth. Rogers hands find their way under Brians t-shirt and he rakes his blunt nails over his sides to feel him shudder in pleasure.

Gently, Brian bites on Rogers bottom lip and tugs it into his mouth. He sucks the sensitive skin until it’s pink and swollen and Roger can’t keep his moans down.

He tugs at Brians hair to pull him back. “Now I’m horny.” 

He is dazed with pleasure and only sees dark lust in Brians eyes when they open. 

“Good.” Brian lifts his hips to rub his erection against Rogers. “I didn’t come here to do homework.”

He ducks down to nip at the soft skin just under Rogers jaw. 

“Fuck.” Roger throws his head back to give him more access. He rhythmically rocks his hips into Brians. “You’re so good at that.”

Brian teeth graze over his neck and sends goosebumps down Rogers back. He shifts upwards until he can suck a mark behind Rogers ear.

Roger shivers against him and feels his heart pounding out of his chest in pleasure. Brian knows exactly what spots drive Roger crazy and how to push his buttons.

“Ah, Brian.” Roger dick strains painfully against his jeans. “We should-” 

Brian cuts him off by capturing his lips again. His breath warm against Rogers face. His big gentle hands keep Roger close against his chest. 

Their tongues meet halfway and they battle for dominance. Brian lets Roger take the lead and lick the outline of his lips, before he sucks Rogers tongue into his mouth hotly.

"We'll have to be quiet." Roger mumbles against Brians lips as soon as they part to breathe. His hands are already working to unzip Brians pants. 

"Why do you think I snuck in through your window?" 

Brian cups his cheeks and tilts his face up to kiss him again. He uses his free hand to caress Roger down his back and tug his shirt out of his pants.

Then he moves down into his pants and grabs a handful of ass.

“Bri,” Roger moans feverishly into his ear, before sliding his pants down to the floor after Brian helpfully lifts his hips off the bed. “Yeah, don’t stop.”

His own hands slip Brians underwear down his hips, before he gets a hold of his erect cock. 

Brian hisses at the immediate relief he feels. “Babe, please...”

Smugly, Roger kisses down his neck while working his hand up and down the warm flesh of Brians member. 

“You like that, don’t you?” Rogers lips brush against his ear hotly, before gently blowing hot air into it. The cock in his hand twitches, while Brians hips jerk up.

He laughs breathlessly. “If you want me to be quiet, this isn’t the way to do it.” But Brian is a good sport and his other hand finds it’s way into Rogers pants as well. Both of his hands cup Rogers firm ass. 

“I worship your bottom.” 

Roger grins and kisses him, still working his warm hands up and down Brians tall dick. “Same goes for your, Bri. I love your cock more than anything else.” 

Brian groans hotly at the steady rhythm Roger finds and keeps up. 

Brian looks beautiful like this. Roger feels warmth tugging in his underbelly just by the sight of Brian all hot and bothered. 

His cheeks red and his head throws back in pleasure, all because of Roger.

“Can I suck you off?” He moans quietly while wiggling out of his own tight pants. “Please Bri. You look delicious and I-”

Brian puts a finger to his lips to shush him. “You never have to ask me twice to give me a blow job, Rog.”

Rogers shoulders relax and he feels lightheaded with arousal just by feeling Brians warm finger against his lips. 

He opens his mouth and filthily sucks the long finger in one smooth gulp. He spits onto it and slides it in and out of his mouth suggestively, all while never breaking eye contact with Brian. He swirls his tongue over the tip and slides it further down his throat.

“Fuck.” Brian moans, while jerking into Rogers hand where it had stilled around his cock. “You’re so- fuck. Roger get to your knees.” 

They’ve completely stopped trying to whisper. Roger tugs his pants and shirt off, while Brian slides his undergarments down to his knees as well.

He leans back onto the pillows with his legs spread invitingly.

Roger is completely naked when he jumps back onto the bed and sits on his hands and knees before Brian.

“I can’t describe to you how much I want to suck you dry.” He moans, before bending down to come face to face with Brians erect red dick.

Brian spreads his legs impossibly further and guides Rogers head towards his throbbing member. “Then do it, babe. Suck.”

Roger closes his eyes and breathes in the husky smell of Brians manhood. 

He wraps his lips around the tip and suckles on it. 

There are a few drops of bitter precum that make Roger rut into the mattress, desperate for some relief.

He looks up at Brian with lust in his eyes. Brians eyes are closed, his head thrown back, but his mouth is formed in a pleasurable O. 

Roger goes back to working the member into his mouth by hollowing his cheeks. He slowly slides it down his relaxed throat. The shaft is a hot and familiar weight and he easily takes him.

He bops his head up and down to hear Brian moan and buck his hips up desperately.

“Fuck. Roger- you’re too good at this.” 

He keeps Rogers head in place with his two hands and ruts his cock into Rogers mouth for more control.

“I’m gonna cum inside you. You’d like that won’t you?”

Roger moans around his cock, he swallows around it and the vibrations send shivers down Brians back. Saliva collecting at the base of his cock.

“You’re just my cum bitch, aren’t you, babe?” He watches as Roger desperately grinds his erection against the mattress for some relief. 

Dirty talking sends his body into overdrive and makes him lightheaded. He’s glad Brian has taken control of fucking into his throat. Because Roger has lost all control.

“Roger. You’re so-”

“Roger, dear?” There is a knock on the door, followed by another call. “Can I come in? I just want to talk.”

Rogers mouth bops off Brians dick and he feels panic rise in his throat. 

“I- uh... Not a good time dad.” His voice is entirely too loud and he’s too dazed to make a sensible next move.

Brian gets into action immediately and pushes himself off the bed and tries to get his pants and underwear on over his wet erect cock. He’s wobbly on his legs because of their previous activities, but he tries his best to rush.

“I don’t want us to go to bed angry.” John calls through the door with a hint of sadness and determination. “Please?” 

Roger slaps his own cheek to get rid of some of the fogginess in his head. He gets out of bed as well and helps Brian climb into the closet by closing the door behind his half naked body. 

“Uhm, gimme a moment dad.” 

He doesn’t feel aroused anymore now that his father had interrupted them, but his cheeks are still flushed, his lips still glossy and swollen and his hair a sexed up mess.

“I am not here to argue.” John reassures him again and Roger feels a little bad for making him wait, while he tries to make his bed look presentable. 

He puts on Brians shirt and hides his own clothes under the bed.

“I’m sorry you feel so bad-” John steps into the room uninvited, before raising an eyebrow at Rogers half naked state.

At least the shirt is long enough to reach his thighs and hide his dick. 

“Hi dad.” He’s still breathless and sitting on the bed, but at least Brian is quiet and his father doesn’t seem angry. 

“Hey honey.” John shuts the door and steps forward to wrap an arm around Roger. 

“We missed you during dinner. I didn’t mean to upset you this much.” John places a kiss to Rogers sweaty forehead, but he doesn’t comment on it. “I wanted to punish you because if the police had caught you, there would be something on your record. Which would be troublesome for the rest of your career.”

Roger sighs and buries his face into Johns stomach to hide his embarrassment. “I know, I was just upset.”

“Understandable.” John pets his hair back until he can actually see his sons face. “You are still grounded for two weeks, but I’ll allow you to take your phone to school and go see the new star wars movie next week.”

Roger feels himself relax in his fathers hug. “Thanks dad.” 

“I’m taking credit for being the good cop, not Freddie for once.” John chuckles, before pulling back.

“I won’t keep you up any longer.” He kisses Rogers forehead before stepping back towards the door. 

Roger smiles up at his father. “Sleep well, dad.” 

John nods solemnly, glad that the matter is settled. “You too, honey.” He opens the door and is about to step out, before he turns around one last time.

"Oh and Brian, we have a front door. You might want to use it some time." 

Roger feels all the color drain from his face as he gapes at his father. 

"Yes Mr. Deacon." Brians voice is muffled by the closet door. Sheepishly, he steps out with his hair ruffled and pants still unzipped.

Roger feels like sinking into the foundation of the house and never be found again. "Uh..."

John bites his lip to keep himself from laughing at the two young boys. "I'll let this one slide, only because the embarrassment is punishment enough."

“Right....” Roger blinks at him with wide eyes.

Then, he blows Roger a kiss and Brian a warning glance, before clicking the door closed behind himself. And John whistles down the hallway to the master bedroom. 

Being a father has its incredible moments after all.


	2. You and I weren’t prepared for dinner with Freddie and John

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first time Brian was invited to have dinner at Rogers house, everything was supposed to go smoothly.
> 
> But because it is Rogers life, nothing good happens without a hiccup.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those who hadn’t noticed, this is a oneshot fanfiction all in the same verse but different chronological order. 
> 
> This is about the first time Brian has dinner at Rogers house, and everything goes wrong. 
> 
> Thank you for reading, leave a comment pleasw

The first time Brian was invited to have dinner at Rogers house, everything was supposed to go smoothly.

But because it is Rogers life, nothing good happens without a hiccup. 

~~~

"Look Deacy, he's smiling at his phone again." 

Rogers face instantly morphs into a scowl. "I'm not." 

John comes out of the kitchen with an apron around his waist and immediately looks at Rogers phone over his shoulder. 

It's an instagram post. 

"It's the curly haired boy again." He informs Freddie solemnly. "Brian, right?" 

Roger sinks deeper into the couch and locks his phone. 

He doesn't want to talk about this now. "Leave me alone." 

Freddie grins and shifts from the corner of the couch towards Roger, taking Romeo with him. He leans against Rogers side and wraps an arm around his son. 

"Honey, when will you finally introduce us to this fine young man."

Roger covers his face with his hands dramatically. "We've only been on three dates." 

"Do you call him your boyfriend?" John asks sternly, still standing behind Roger against the back of the couch.

"I guess?" Roger whimpers, knowing exactly where this is going.

"We have rules in this house." John reminds him. "When you have a new boyfriend you bring him over so we can meet him." 

Roger shakes his head. "Please no. Give me some more time." 

He doesn't know how Brian will react to the hectic world that's Rogers life. Eccentric Freddie, overprotective John, the entire adoption situation, the two million cats...

Freddie nods eagerly. "If he's your boyfriend we have to see him."

Brian is calm and collected, a solid rock of serenity. The complete opposite of Rogers wild life and extravagant parents. 

"I just need a little more time to convince him I'm worth the trouble." He pouts up at John, upside down. "Please, dad." 

John sighs tiredly and leans forward to brush the hair away from Rogers forehead. Gently, he places a soft kiss on it.

"You're worth all the trouble in the world Roger. Every sensible man should see that." 

"You only say that because you are my father." Roger replies meekly, but leans into Freddie's hug for comfort. He lays his head on Freddie's firm shoulder and pulls purring Romeo into his own lap. 

Meeting his parents would be the ultimate test for Brian. Roger doesn't want this to go wrong. It's important if they want to continue dating in the future. 

"That's not true, actually, we picked you out of hundreds of kids." Freddie reminds him while petting Romeos soft belly. "You were the cutest, sweetest, most lovable of all."

"And you gave us a lot of trouble." John adds fondly with a snort, still brushing Rogers hair away from his eyes. "Lots and lots of trouble."

"But it was totally worth it." Freddie grins.

Roger knows that his fathers love him, so he won't get around this. 

"Fine," His fathers can meet Brian, but Roger isn't happy about it. "But please, just don't chase him away." He turns his puppy eyes to John and begs him. "I really really like him."

Freddie gapes at him in disbelief. "Are you embarrassed by us, Rog?"

"Yes." Roger deadpans. "Obviously." 

Freddie turns to John with a gasp. "I can't believe you actually feel that way." 

"Pap, you're wearing glitter leggings. Dad your apron says 'eat my meat'." Roger says incredulously with wide eyes. 

Freddie grows quiet and then frowns. He doesn't know how to defend himself, so he turns to his husband. 

John shrugs. "It's a fair point." 

"Thank you." Roger purses his lips. 

"But," John interjects before Roger becomes too smug. "Dear, rules are rules. You'll bring Brian over for dinner and I won't wear this apron and burn your fathers leggings." 

Freddie gapes at John. "Now hold on-"

"Deal!" 

Roger bolts up from the couch with Romeo cradled against his chest and his phone already pressed against his ear. "I'll call Bri immediately." 

After they watch him run up the stairs to his room, Freddie falls back into the couch cushions with a dramatic sigh. 

"I love these leggings."

John leans forward and cups Freddie's cheeks and kisses his pouty lips. Their lips gently brush together. 

Even after a million kisses it feels like the first one.

When they pull back, Johns eyes slowly blink open again."I hate them with a burning passion. So does anyone else with eyes." 

"You're just jealous that I can pull them off." Freddie whispers against his lips with a grin. Staring up into Johns deep dark eyes affectionately. 

"Yes, Fred. That's the reason why I hate the bling-bling leggings." John snorts and pecks his lips one more time, before straightening up to go back into the kitchen and finish dinner. 

"Poor Rog. He has it hard for that Brian boy." Freddie comments quietly, while glancing at the spot where his son just sat.

John turns back around before he can round the corner. "Yes, that's exactly why I need to keep an eye on him. Roger has a weird taste in men." 

"You're cute when you're overbearing, Love." 

"It's not overbearing when your son is Roger. He's the embodiment of chaotic energy. Don't tell me you're not worried."

"Of course I am." Freddie scoffs. "Don't remind me of that terrible man he used to date... " 

John leans against the door frame with a sigh. He's very much worried about who Brian is and why he is driving his son crazy. 

Roger doesn't fall in love easily, but it doesn't take much to get his heart broken. "I hope he's learned from the past and Brian is a good guy." 

"Me too, Dear." 

~~~

"Brian, we need to talk."

Brians smile morphs into a worried frown. 

They're sharing a private moment against Brians locker in between classes. They'd given up on discrete making out ever since the janitor had chased him out of the supply closet. Some students stared while passing by, but the two boys are too star struck with one another to actually notice.

Brians hands are still on Rogers waist, but he's not sure if he should let go now that Roger initiated a serious conversation. 

"Oh... that's not good." 

Roger leans forward onto his tip toes to kiss Brian again. He can't get enough.

He wraps his hands around Brians neck to he pull himself closer.

He gently nips at Brians bottom lip, until he feels Brians tongue dip into his mouth and his hands tighten on Rogers waist. 

"Don't worry." He whispers without leaning back. His lips brush against Brians with every word he speaks. "I just- we can't continue dating if you don't come to dinner with my parents soon."

Brian is still dazed by the kiss. Roger is so close to his face he has to look crossed eyed to look into those soft blue eyes. 

"Uh, okay?" He snorts, before angling his head down to kiss Roger again. 

He's thirsty for it. He licks his way into Rogers mouth again and moans softly when he feels their tongues slide past one another.

His hands roam until they find their way under Rogers shirt and he splays his cold fingers on Rogers arched lower back. 

"Bri," Roger pulls back slightly with a obnoxious smack of their lips. "That means dinner at my house this week, or no more snogging." 

Brian blinks down at him. There's a string of saliva connected between them. 

"Sure Rog. Of course I'll meet your parents."

Rogers body relaxes against his in relief. "Really? It's not too soon?"

"I- no... I just feel guilty I can't introduce you to my mother yet- not like that anyway." He sighs. "She still doesn't know and I don't know how she'll react and-"

Roger shushes him immediately. 

"It's fine, Brian." He grins up at him. "You don't have to come out of the closet for me. I'm just glad to have you." 

Brian gulps down his guilt and gently rests their foreheads together. "She'd adore you. If you were a girl that is." 

"I could buy a wig if you want?"

"As much as I'd love to see that, I don't think it'll work in the long run." Brian huffs out a laugh and caresses Rogers cheek lovingly. "You're incredibly ridiculous sometimes." 

Roger leans in for another kiss to quiet him. He can't quite look Brian in the eye when his tone becomes low with affection and all his attention is turned to Roger alone. 

"I'm sure my fathers will like you. They can be a bit overprotective sometimes- but just be yourself." He reassures Brian. "They're also very weird, but try to ignore that." 

Brian gently kneads his fingers into Rogers lower back as an appreciative massage. 

"I'd do anything to stay with you." He whispers solemnly. His heart swelling with every word. "You're the craziest, most amazing person I know." 

"You're just trying to get in my pants, Brian." Roger snorts and tries to play cool, but he's blushing because of the praise. He allows Brian to close the barely existing distance between them and pecks Rogers lips again. 

Their tongues bump into one another, before they slowly slide back and forth. Licking into each others mouths and tasting each other.

They skip the next class, because neither of them keeps track of the time.

~~~

Tomorrow is the big day.

They're all in the sitting room. John is going through his recipe books to find something decent to eat, Roger is learning for his test and Freddie is sketching new designs for the store.

Roger sits on the floor against the couch with his chemistry book in his lap and his reading glasses perched on his nose. Delilah is asleep in the V of his legs and Goliath sits on his shoulder with his face pressed against Rogers neck. 

"I still have to sharpen my meat knives." John comments while skimming pages. "Show him who's the boss."

"Dad absolutely not, he's a vegetarian and you promised not to scare him." 

"Of course he is." John mumbles, before slamming book about grilled chicken closed and instead grabs his iPad to find meat-free recipes. "That definitely makes everything easier."

Roger immediately comes to Brians defense. "Did you know that it would have the same effect if the entire world stopped driving cars on fuel as it would have if we would all stopped the beef industry." 

"See, that vegetarian has already brainwashed my child." John comments dryly, but doesn't even look up from his tablet. 

Roger purses his lips in disdain. "You're just looking for reasons to dislike him."

"That's not true, Rog." 

"You're being mean." Roger huffs, before huddling back behind his thick chemistry book. "First you force me to invite him over and now you're making fun of his lifestyle choices." 

John sighs and gets up from the couch to give his son an apologetic hug. "Fine. My comments were unnecessary."

"Don't touch me." Roger mumbles, before John manages to wrap his arms fully around him.

He pushes his glasses up his nose and pointedly stares at his book instead of his father. 

"Roger, honey. I was just teasing." John smiles at his pouting kid, but keeps his respectful distance. His arms are hovering over Rogers shoulders, slowly starting to ache. "I love you dearly. And I'll admit that I am a little nervous about meeting Brian."

He bites his lip to hold back some of the irrational nerves. Roger causes him sleepless nights so now and then. "I’m also stressed about minor details such as what we are eating."

Roger sighs, slams his book shut and finally looks up at his fathers caring face. 

He's got physical stomach aches because of tomorrow. Due to the important chemistry test and his new boyfriend meeting his crazy parents.

It's a lot. And he isn't sure if he can handle Brian breaking up with him at this point. Not while he makes Rogers heart burst with happiness every time they make eye contact.

Not while he makes Roger see stars every time they kiss.

"Look dad. I really, really, really, really, really, really-" He inhales deeply. "Really, really like Brian. This evening makes or breaks our relationship. I don't want this to end."

John takes him speaking up as an invitation to wrap his arms around his son and pull him against his chest. Together with the two cats. 

Roger climbs in his lap and wraps his limbs around his father like a little kid. He's tense with worry as he nuzzles his face against his fathers woolen sweater.

"Okay baby." John strokes his hair behind his ear to calm him down. "I'll make a good veggie dish for our guest and I'll do my best to behave." 

"Why don't you cook something yourself, dear?" Freddie suddenly pitches in from behind his sketchbook. "You're a good cook." 

"Because I have my chemistry test at 4:30. With some luck I'll be home by 6, before Brian gets here." Rogers voice is muffled from Johns sweater, but Freddie understands him anyway.

"Well, dear, I'll be on my best behavior tomorrow."

Roger sighs and smiles against his fathers chest. "Thanks pap."

"Anything for you, honey."

John strokes Rogers hair back from his face, before kissing his forehead. "I will be good as well. But I'll make sure he knows what the rules are."

Roger can only pray that it's enough to keep Brian from running off. 

~~~

[ 4:48 PM] 

Dearest Deacy: what r u doing love? 

Crazy cat Husband: I'm still working Dearesttttt🥰😘😍🤩🤗

Dearest Deacy: Right. 

Dearest Deacy: Im stuck in traffic. There is a huge accident and nobody can drive. Im an hour away from home still

Crazy cat Husband: when will you get home?😮😮🤭🤔

Dearest Deacy: not in time to make dinner

Crazy cat Husband: ohhhhhhhh Roger will actually kill you😵😔😫

Dearest Deacy: thats where u come in

Dearest Deacy: can u close the store early and make dinner instead of me

Crazy cat Husband: 😶😶😶😶😶😶

Dearest Deacy: Please Fred

Crazy cat Husband: Whats in it for me🤔🤗🤐

Dearest Deacy: Freddie I swear to God

Dearest Deacy: If rog kills me we cant have sex anymore

Crazy cat Husband: alright 

Crazy cat Husband: I'll close the store early and make dinner for my family🤪🥰

Dearest Deacy: and dessert!!! Apple pie 

Crazy cat Husband: 🥧 sure dearest 🥵🤠😻😻😻😽😽 

~~~

"Oh my God." 

Roger comes into the house just before 6 to find Freddie in the kitchen. Apron wrapped around his waist and Romeo perched carefully on his shoulder. He's baking potatoes in a pan and baking the pie in the oven.

This is bad.

Roger drops his schoolbag onto the floor and gasps behind his hand. "Pap where is Dad?" He asks in pure horror. 

"Oh hello Dear, good to see you too. Yes my day was alright as well. I've only been in the kitchen for a good hour to cook for my dearest family." Freddie rolls his eyes, before turning back to the stove. "How was the chemistry test?"

Roger gives in with a sigh and wraps his arms around his father apologetically. He was surprised to see Freddie and not John handling the food. John had been preparing this dinner for days, and Roger had put his full trust in his fathers abilities. 

Not Freddie's.

"Alright, I'm sorry." 

Romeo struts from Freddies shoulder to sit on Rogers, almost as if he's sensing how nervous the blond is and he tries to comfort him. 

"But why are you cooking? We could have just waited for Dad to come home." Because you are a horrible cook and this can't go wrong, please god safe me-

"Your dad is stuck in traffic. So he asked me to take over the cooking for tonight." Freddie explains purposefully without looking at him.

Roger wraps his arms tighter around Freddie's waist and peers up at him with a doubtful expression. He really could use a hug now. 

"Right... So did you burn anything yet?" 

Freddie scoffs as if he's offended, but ducks down to kiss Rogers cheek anyway. 

It's not as calming as it usually feels. "God you're so lucky I love you. I know how to make a fucking meal, I'm a grown up man."

"People would question that, papa." Roger jokes half heartedly. 

He tries to play it cool, but heart is pounding out his chest. He'd nearly screwed up the chemistry test because of his uncontrollable nerves. His stomach is fluttering with it. His head dizzy with anticipation.

"Oh darling," Freddie turns fully around, cups his cheeks and squeezes him lovingly. As he used to do when Roger was but a small child. "You got it bad." 

"I know." Roger groans miserably with his face squashed together between Freddie's fingers. He peers up at his father with a pleading expression on his face. "Please tell me you got the food under control."

"Of course dear. No need to worry. Your dad was right to trust me with dinner." Freddie promises with a reassuring smile. "Remember, if all else fails, at least trust your dad." 

He lets go of Rogers face, before flipping the potatoes in the pan to keep them evenly cooked. 

Roger takes a sniff of the food and to his surprise, it's not too bad. It smells like something his grandmother would make when she prepares a traditional dish from her home country. 

His father stands tall and proud in the kitchen with his mothers recipe in toe. Roger could see Freddie is as excited about meeting Brian as Roger is nervous.

He has been looking forward to meeting the newest addition to Rogers life, despite all the havoc it was causing in their household for the past few days. John and Roger have been close to jumping at one another's throat, while Freddie was just giddy to see how it would turn out.

"When will Brian arrive?" Freddie asks with a wide grin, bouncing on his toes. 

Delilah sits on the counter next to the stove, looking at the baking potatoes with great fascination. Her eyes wide and body tense as if she’s about to leap at any moment. 

Roger grabs her before she can hurt herself on the heater and cradles her against his chest for his own comfort more than any other reason.

"He texted me that he was already on the tube a while back." He murmurs into her soft fur. "So any moment now."

Freddie wiggles his hips to the slow jazz coming from the radio on the kitchen counter. "I hope Deacy will get here soon as well. I don't think we have enough collective calmth between the two of us to handle this." 

"Fuck. You're right." Roger bites his lip, still standing behind Freddie while leaning against the kitchen counter with Delilah and Romeo. 

He feels like he's about to burst with nerves. "If dad doesn't get here soon I might actually-"

The bell rings.

Roger completely freezes in place. 

Delilah jumps out of his clutch at the sudden noise, while Romeo digs his claws into Rogers flesh with a hiss. 

He is too shocked to react to the stinging pain. Rogers palms grow sweaty almost instantly and all color drains from his face. 

"Pap." He turns his wide eyes to Freddie. "That's him. I'm gonna die." 

"Get him inside you sod, it's cold out." Freddie pushes him out of the kitchen towards the front door. "Go, go, go!" 

Roger is not in control of his feet moving towards the door, Lily, Delilah and Miko following him hot on his heels as he gets to the door.

His mind is racing and his heart is pounding out of his chest. He pulls his hoodie off and throws it over the armchair before he sweats through it and makes a complete fool of himself.

Romeo is still clinging to him, but jumps down towards the other cats on the floor as soon as Roger opens the front door and the cold wind rushes inside.

~~~

"Roger, good evening." 

Brian is dressed in a neat white blouse and flared black pants that make his legs appear even longer. He has a bouquet of flowers in his hands and a self knitted scarf around his neck, but most importantly a smile on his face.

Even though it's a nervous one.

Roger can't find the words. He feels his legs grow weak at the sight of his boyfriend. He knows they're gonna have a rough night, he even warned Brian about it.

Still he shows up well dressed, in a good mood and with a bouquet of too expensive flowers he probably can't really afford. Like the gentleman he is.

Roger melts at the sight and his heart flutters.

"Come here." Before Roger can think twice, he wraps his arms around Brians neck and pulls him into a much needed kiss.

As their soft lips meet all his worries melt away, as snow in the sun. It's so familiar by now. He feels his entire frame relax against Brians tall and steady body. 

He lets Brian push him backwards into the house, the flowers pressed against Rogers back, because neither of them can take a second to let go and put it down.

The cats are meowing up at them. They zig zag around Brians ankles and try to get their attention, but it doesn't work while the two have their lips locked in a passionate kiss.

Brian nips at Rogers bottom lip and wraps his arms around Rogers waist to pull him impossibly closer. They move backwards, until Roger knocks into the wall behind him.

Brian traps him there and licks into his mouth deviously. Hungry for more Roger. 

He dips his hands under Rogers lose shirt and presses his cold fingers against the hot skin of his lower back. Roger moans into Brians mouth, before pulling at his hair desperately to gain some control back. 

Neither of them notice Freddie coming up behind them, until he clears his throat pointedly. 

"Roger, dear. I think it's time for you to introduce me to someone?" 

Brian leaps out of Rogers grip as if he's been burned. He wipes his mouth off their saliva as he gapes at Freddie. 

He might be taller than Freddie, but the man is broad and has a deep intimidating voice. He is standing in the door of the hallway with his hands on his hips and a raised eyebrow.

"Uh, yes." Roger squeaks out, before clearing his throat. He knows Brian is completely mortified. Their lips are swollen and his hair is a ruffled mess. "Brian, this is my father."

Brian takes a sheepish step forward to shake hands with Freddie. The hand that had just been about to squeeze his sons ass. His cheeks are red with embarrassment. 

He sounds like a little boy when he speaks up. "Nice to meet you, uh..."

Freddie's serious face morphs into an easy smile almost instantly. He pushes away Brians hand and instead wraps him into a tight bear hug. 

"Mr. Mercury for fans, Mr. Bulsara for official documents, but for my sons boyfriend I am Freddie." 

Both Brian and Roger collectively sigh in relief as Freddie breaks the tension in the room. He pulls back before the hug becomes uncomfortable and clasps Brians shoulder in a friendly manner. 

"My husband will be here soon, good he wasn't the one to catch you two." Freddie winks at Roger, who comes to stand beside Brian and wraps an arm around his waist. 

"Thank God for small miracles." He sighs, before leaning his head against Brians shoulder. "Dad would have sent you right out the door again." 

Brian isn't sure what to do with his hands, so he presents the bouquet of flowers to Freddie and wraps the other around Roger. "For you and your husband. A thank you for inviting me into your home." 

"Oh dear." Freddie takes them carefully and examines the small white group of lilies with great fascination. "That's very thoughtful of you, Brian. You're a very well mannered man."

Roger grins proudly as he watches Brian look at his feet nervously at the praise. 

"Yes, he is." He sighs contently. He has the most perfect, caring, boyfriend in the world. 

He doesn't understand why he was worried in the first place. 

"Roger show Brian where we keep the plates." Freddie orders while he's skimming through the flowers in the bouquet on his way out of the hallway. "Let's get the table set, before Brian completely devours you." 

Freddie turns back to them and winks, before leading them into the kitchen.

"Oh my God."

~~~

After they set the table with plates, cutlery, candles and Brians flowers in a vase, they all settle down to wait for John to come home. 

Roger is incredibly grateful for his father holding back on some of the inappropriate commentary he can barely keep at bay. Brian is on his best behavior and Roger feels giddy with pride.

He rewards Brian by tipping his head up and gently pecking his lips. 

"You're doing amazing, my father loves you." Roger whispers as soon as he pulls back. 

He sits down on the chair next to Brian so they can sit opposite of his parents when they both take place. 

Brians face flushes with the praise, he looks down at his fine plate with sudden interest. "I hope your other father is as welcoming."

He finds Roger hand under the table and laces their fingers together. Roger feels warmth pool in his belly. 

"Don't count on it, Brian dear." Freddie says cheerfully as he puts the dishes on the table beside the candles. He keeps them covered to stay warm until John has arrived. "Deacy is a lovely husband, but very protective of his son." 

"Dinner smells good, Mr- uh... Freddie." Brian skillfully avoids talking about John by changing the subject. 

They can't really see what Freddie has cooked up, but it smells heavenly to Rogers utter surprise. 

Freddie settles down opposite of the two boys and pours himself a generous glass of wine with a satisfied smile. "Thank you very much, Brian. I managed to get it all together, despite all the negative vibes threatening to keep me down." 

Roger ignores the slight snide pointed towards him and reaches over the table to pour some cucumber laced water into his and Brians cups as well.

"Hold on dear." Freddie stops him with the bottle mid-air. "Perhaps Brian would like a glass of wine?"

Roger glances away from his father and turns to Brian with a raised eyebrow. "Do you?"

"Water is fine." Brian immediately declines, to Rogers utter relief. "I don't drink alcohol." 

Freddie nods in approval before raising the brim of his glass to his lips. "That's the right answer."

"Good call." Roger squeezes Brians sweaty hand under the table to reassure him. He's not sure whether Brian is lying or not, but as long as he keeps impressing Freddie, Roger is satisfied. 

"Are you done testing my boyfriend now, pap?" He asks in Brians defense. 

"Not quite dear." Freddie sends Brian a warm smile from behind his bushy mustache. He reaches over the table, where he had set up the beautiful white flowers Brian had brought him. 

"Great." Roger feels his nerves cramp up inside of him and he groans. 

"Do you know what lilies stand for?" Freddie asks Brian without missing a beat. 

Brian gives Freddie a nervous smile. "Uh, no?" 

Freddie turns to Roger. "Do you know, dear?"

Roger shakes his head and shrugs. "What are you going on about?" 

"Well," Freddie takes one of the bananas out of the fruit bowl and reaches into his back pocket with his other hand. "Lilies in christian religion stand for purity, and virginity if you will." 

Roger sinks deeper into his chair and clutches Brians hand impossibly tighter. 

He doesn't want to know where this is going. 

"Will you hold this, dear?" He shoves the banana into Brians hand, before asking. "Are you a virgin Brian?"

Rogers eyes go wide with shock. "Pap!"

While at the exact same moment Brians face turns deep red and his facial expression mortified. "I-uh..." 

Freddie grabs the condom from his pocket and rips the package open. "Because if you want to sleep with my only child, I need to know if you can practice safe sex."

"Pap, I'm literally begging you-" Roger sputters out, but he isn't quick enough. 

Freddie hands Brian the slippery condom with an encouraging smile. "Show me how it's done."

~~~

"What the hell is going on?" 

John isn't sure if he has arrived way too late or just on time.

Freddie is hanging over the table with a glass of wine in his hands. A young man whom John assumes is Brian, is shakily holding a banana with a condom rolled over the tip. His face is redder than a tomato.

Roger just looks mortified with his face behind his hands.

"Deacy, dearest you are home!" 

"Oh God, dad." Roger sighs in relief at the sight of him, which makes Johns heart warm ever so slightly. "You cannot ever be late again. Ever."

Brian bumps his knees against the table in his haste to greet John, who has to hold back a snort. Brians hands are clammy but firm when they shake hands.

"It's very nice to meet you, uh..."

John has to tip his chin up to keep eye contact with Brian, but he pointedly holds his gaze. "Mr. Deacon. Or Mr John Deacon. Whichever suits you."

"Come on dad." Roger sends him a pleading expression from the table. "Go easy on him will you?" 

John turns back to Brian and shrugs. "Sir, works too." 

He has to set the tine now or else he won't have a lasting impression on the boy. He's much taller and probably physically stronger than John. 

"Right." Brian nods solemnly. "Good to know." 

Freddie wraps an arm around Johns waist and kisses his cheek out of the blue. "Glad you're home, dearest."

"Yes. Sadly I missed out on how you got poor Brian to almost fuck a banana." John says dryly, before shuffling towards the dining table and settle down. 

"He was not going to have sex with the stupid fruit." Roger grits out while he holds out Brians chair for their guest to sit back down without bumping his knees again.

Freddie pours John a glass of water. "I was simply testing whether Brian could handle the responsibility of being a top."

"Who says that I'm a bottom?!" Roger slams his hand on the table with an incredulous look.

Freddie puts the bottle down and waves his son off. "Darling, I have been gay for over three decades. I know what a bottom looks like." 

"First of all, That's bullocks. Secondly-"

John ignores their loud conversations to instead examine the tall group of flowers in the middle of the table. 

"Did you bring these, Brian?" 

Brians eyes are wide with overwhelming emotions and his cheeks are permanently pink. The banana is still laying beside his hand on the table. Roger is defensively yelling at Freddie beside him.

"Uh, yes I did."

John has to give it to the boy, it's a thoughtful gesture. "They're very lovely."

"Oh thank you Mr.Deacon. I'm glad you like them." He says eagerly with a slight smile. "Freddie has just brought to my attention what they actually mean."

John snorts. "Virginity, yes. Well..." He pokes Freddie's side insistingly to get him to sit down. 

"What?"

"Will you quiet yelling at my son about his preferred sex position and serve us the food you made?"

Freddie huffs, before leaning down to kiss Johns cheek. "Anything for you my dear." 

Roger flops back down into his chair with a scowl, but Brians hand finding his on the table seems to calm him down a bit. "You're fucking ridiculous, pap." 

"Language, dear." Freddie murmurs, while uncovering the three silver plates he'd skillfully set up on the table. 

"Let me lighten the mood and calm everyone down by serving my secret family recipe." He proudly presents the, "Well baked potatoes with oregano, steamed broccoli and my mother's famous-"

"Pork!" 

John cringes at the sight of the pigs juicy brown head. His eyes are closed and there's a big apple stuffed into his mouth. 

There is a pigs entire head on their dinner table. 

"Oh God..." He glances at Brian, who seems greenish ready to vomit over their mahogany table. 

Rogers mouth is agape and his eyes wide when he looks up at Freddie. "Brian is a vegetarian." 

"Oh." Freddie turns to John with wide eyes. "You could have mention that before ordering me to make dinner for tonight!"

"You were there when we discussed this dinner yesterday." John gets up to cover the porks fleshy head, before Brian actually throws up on it. "You were right beside us when we talked it through!"

"I don't recall this." Freddie puts his hands on his hips, before turning to Brian. "How strictly vegetarian are you?" 

"Strict enough to not eat a fucking pig face!" Roger exclaims mortified. "What the fuck, pap!"

John bites his lip thoughtfully, while looking down at the remaining food on the table. "Potatoes and broccoli are not enough for a meal." 

"We still have the pie-" Freddie is about to stroll into the kitchen to check up on the pie when a large smelly cloud of smoke comes out of the kitchen and the fire alarm goes off.

Roger covers his face with his hands. Completely defeated.

Brian looks like he's about to combust with overload.

Freddie rushes to the kitchen, yelling about opening the windows and forgetting to take the pie out of the oven.

"Right." 

John takes a deep breath, before reaching for his back-pocket. 

He reaches over the table to ruffle Rogers hair and send Brian a reassuring nod.

It's time for plan P.

"I'm ordering pizza." 

~~~

Brian has just stuffed his last crust of pizza into his mouth when he places his last few tiles on the scrabble board.

'Antediluvian.' 

Another cat makes its way onto the coffee table where the entire family had gathered around to play board games and eat their pizzas to avoid the smell of smoke in the kitchen. 

The evening has passed by quite uneventful from the moment the pizza arrived. They put on some music in the background and gone through a good part of the board game collection owned by Freddie.

"Come here baby girl." Roger lifts the cat up before she can stand on the scrabble board and erase the tiles alongside Brians win away.

He settles her against his chest before laying his head back against Brians firm shoulder. 

Everything feels oddly familiar and domestic. Brian secretly wants to curl up in a corner and live in this soft moment forever.

"You never told me you got a million cats." He comments quietly, while wrapping an arm around Rogers small waist to keep him close.

Roger is leaning against him heavily. He has not really been playing along anymore ever since finishing the second pizza. He's almost too full to move. 

"Please tell me you're not allergic." Roger begs as another cat comes to sit on Brians thigh. 

"I'm not." He laughs, petting the beautiful creature behind its ears. "You'd think a crazy cat lady is living in this house."

"There is." John checks if the word Brian has put down on the board is actually in the Scrabble dictionary. "His name is Freddie." 

Freddie scoffs, flicking his finger against Johns nose teasingly. "You love me." 

"I do."

Brian looks away before they notice him staring. They're affectionate in a way Brians parents never show around him. 

He wonders if it's because they're homosexual or because Roger is adopted. Or maybe because his parents aren’t in love the way Freddie and John are.

"I think we have a winner, Brian." John comments quietly after closing the dictionary again. "Congrats."

Brian smiles. "Thank you Mr.Deacon. I-"

His phone rings in his pocket. He glances at the time, 11:37 PM, before answering his mothers call.

"Evening mum."

Roger kisses his cheek with a small smile, but he stays quiet. 

"Yes... I'm still at Melissa's house." 

Freddie raises a questioning eyebrow at him, before mouthing 'who the fuck is Melissa?'.

John purses his lips, Brian can almost see wheels turning in his head. 

Roger presses his finger to his lips to keep his fathers quiet. 

"I can take the tube home... No, I'll be fine mum." He reassures her quietly. "Get some sleep, I'll be home soon."

Roger sighs sadly besides him, he glances down to intertwine their fingers together. Brian really doesn't want to let go. 

"Bye mum.... Love you too."

As soon as he lowers the phone from his ear, he knows he has some questions to answer, but Roger beats him to it.

"Mrs. May doesn't know about us..." 

Brian can't meet John or Freddie's eyes when he adds, "I told my parents I am seeing a girl. I'm not exactly out with my sexuality yet." 

"Right." Freddie clears his throat. "Okay..."

"It's just..." He shoots to his defense nervously. It's embarrassing to feel so caught in the highlights. "My parents go to church a lot. The church gives us a lot of aid- we don't have much money. I don't think my mum could live without that support system. And I-"

"Brian, honey." John stops him before he can embarrass himself further and sends him the most genuine smile he's seen on the man so far. "We've all been there. You don't have to explain yourself to us."

He lays a firm hand on Brians shoulder from across the coffee table. "You're always welcome to come here. You always have a home here."

Warmth spreads from Brians heart all the way to his toes. 

Acceptance, something he's never fully experienced before. 

"Does that mean he's approved?" Roger asks his fathers with an excited smile.

"I suppose it means that he is indeed." John grumbles in mock hesitation. "But I'm still watching you, Brian."

"Of course Mr.Deacon." He can't contain his broad grin. "I won't let you down."

Freddie gives a proud smile as well. "He was approved the moment he knew how to put that condom on that banana." 

Roger groans and hides his red face in Brians shoulder. "Let's never speak of that again."

Brian feels too warm with acceptance to make room for embarrassment.

~~~

"This does mean that they expect to see you again soon." Roger says when they're at the front door. "They want to keep an eye on you regularly."

Brian has to go home before his mother had a heart attack. He has his shoes on and scarf wrapped around his neck.

He's already half outside the door, but he can't quite get himself to look away from Rogers perfect baby blue eyes. 

"I'm happy to be invited again." 

He glances over Rogers shoulder to see Freddie and John are still busy cleaning up in the kitchen. 

"Coast is clear." He whispers softly, before leaning in to kiss Roger goodbye. 

Their lips still taste like their pizza, but Brian doesn't mind as he feels Rogers tongue lick at the outline of his upper lip.

He reaches down to squeeze Rogers backside appreciatively. He swallows the quiet moan that leaves Rogers lips. 

Sparks fly as Brian allows Roger tongue into his mouth and mark him from the inside out. 

"Don't take flowers with you every time. It's not worth the money." Roger orders him after their lips part for a quick intake of breath. 

Brian squeezes his butt again and winks. "You're worth all the money in the world, Rog." 

"Shut up." He utters without hiding his blush, before forcing Brian into another kiss by tugging his head down. 

"That's a suspiciously long goodbye." John calls from the kitchen in a faux casual tone.

Roger nips at Brians bottom lip. "Just ignore him." He breathes hotly against Brians lips before sucking the tender skin into his mouth. Causing shivers to run down Brians spine.

He presses himself closed to Roger and lets the smaller man fuck his tongue into his mouth. Brian grasps Rogers ass even more eagerly to find leverage. 

"I'm counting down to ten, and Brian is out of the door!" John yells pointedly. 

Roger huffs against his lips, before wrapping his arms around his neck and hook one leg around Brians waist.

"Nine, eight, seven." 

Brian sucks Rogers tongue into his mouth to hear him moan. He hopes no neighbors walk past behind them, because this is far beyond public displays of affection.

"Six, five, four."

Roger moans quietly into Brians mouth as he feels Brians firm hand massage his asscheeks. Their lips move together overly familiar by now. 

Neither of them wants to let go.

"Three! Two..." 

Just as John comes rounding the corner into the hallway, Roger pushes Brian away and slams the door shut with a dreamy smile.

"I saw that!" Brian hears John yell through the wood, but he skips down the porch off the Deacon/Mercury/Taylor property before he can listen to more conversation.

His hands are in his pocket, his head still dazed by the kiss and his lips tutted to whistle happily into the night. As he strolls over to the tube station, home.

And secretly, he is really looking forward to their future as a family. 

Albeit a crazy one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I HATED THIS CHAPTER SO MUCH BECAUSE I WROTE FOR HOURS SND HOURS AND HOURS AND I DELETED IT ALL BECAUSE IT WAS HORRIBLE. Fuck it was bad. I really didn’t love this haahahah.
> 
> Luckily, I’m redeeming myself with a holiday special for Christmas. 
> 
> For those who hadn’t noticed, this is a oneshot fanfiction all in the same verse but different chronological order. 
> 
> Let me know what you thought. I love you guys, sorry for the long wait. I love the comments and die without them lol


	3. You and I, a Christmas special

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I made a last minute Christmas special for you guys. 
> 
> Merry Christmas to you, and Happy Holidays to the non-christians

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, happy holidays people. An extra chapter as a Christmas present for all you amazing readsrs from me.

Brian has always had a lot of respect for his parents.

They are a simple christian middle class couple, trying to make ends meet while working six days a week and raising a son.

His father works as a bus driver between London and Amsterdam. He's gone most days of the week traveling between country boarders, but when he gets a day off he's too exhausted to do anything and sleeps for full days.

His mother is a nurse. She is their primary source of income, much to Mr. Mays disdain. It hurts his pride. 

But because of that she works over time almost every day in order for the family to live in their neighborhood and send Brian to the expensive upperclass all boys school in London. 

Yes. Brian has a lot of respect for his parents. They can barely stand on their feet by the time they get home every day, just so that he can live a comfortable life.

But he doesn't think that under any circumstances when he has kids of his own one day, he'd leave them alone for Christmas. 

Mrs. May had never intended to spend Christmas eve at home. During the holidays the hospital could always use an extra pair of hands.

The Mays could use an extra paycheck as well.

Brian had initially thought he would spend Christmas with his dad instead. Sadly, his fathers bus got stuck in Brussels until the roads are free of snow again.

Snow is beautiful. But also an inconvenient bitch.

Brian doesn't feel comfortable enough to ask if he can spend Christmas at Rogers house. 

He'd seen all the presents under the tree at the Deacon household. He'd noticed the stack of Christmas dvd's and obnoxious lights all around the house. 

It looked devine, almost perfect like a cheesy Hollywood movie. 

Brian can't be a part of it though. He would be interrupting some important family moments he shouldn't be intruding if he barged into their house on such a short notice.

So, no mum. No dad. And probably the saddest, no Roger during the holidays.

On top of all that, Brian feels miserably sick. 

Everyone around town has been catching this seasonal virus. His mother had it a few weeks back, Freddie had it too, and the last week before Christmas break half the classroom was empty, because most of the teens were sick at home.

Merry Christmas.....

~~~

It's the 24th. 

Brian had first woken up to his mother kissing his scorching cheek before she left for work. "Merry Christmas dearest. Have fun with your dad tonight." 

Brian can register her cool hand on his hot forehead as she strokes his hair back. "I left some soup for you on the stove, let your dad heat it up."

"Mhm." Is all he can muster to get out of his sore throat. 

He immediately falls back asleep as soon as she leaves and closes his bedroom door, because he couldn't generate the energy to open his eyes. 

His head aches painfully, his stomach is churning angrily and he is positive that he's sporting a fever. 

~~~

The next time he wakes up, the sun is shining behind the drawn curtains and his sheets are soaked with sweat. 

"Oh my fuck." Brians throat is scraping at the walls and he feels beyond miserable. "I'm dying."

He rolls over on his soiled sheets to grab his phone on the nightstand and turns the lamp on. The bright lights makes his head throb instantly. 

He wants to crawl under (clean) sheets and die.

Instead of passing away, Brian unlocks his phone and sees through squinted eyes that he has received two messages.

One from his beloved boyfriend.

[ Roger May: bby m sick ] 

And another one from his father.

[ Dad: Bus is still stuck in Brussels because of the snow. Don't tell your mother she will freak out. But I won't make it home before Christmas ]

Brians heart sinks. 

He'd secretly hoped for a Christmas miracle that cleared all the roads to London. 

But no such miracles happened no matter how much he had prayed for his father. 

Brian bites the bullet and sends his father a message. His fingers are trembling and uncoordinated, but he is in no hurry.

[ Brian: Okay dad. Stay safe. ]  
[ Dad: I'm sorry kid. ]  
[ Brian: Don't worry about me. Im okay ]  
[ Dad: Alright.... Merry Christmas son ]

Brian feels a cough tickling in his throat. He's nauseous and lonely. 

He needs a hug.

[ Roger May: u alive ??¿ ]   
[ Roger May: facetime me pls miss u ]

Brians heart throbs and he lets out a strained sigh. He loves his idiot.

[ Brian❤️: good morning ]  
[ Roger May: afternoon rn ]

Brian glances at the time. 12:36. 

He feels too exhausted for someone who's apparently slept for over ten hours. His entire body aches when he shifts upright to sit against the headboard with a miserable groan.

[ Roger May: reply 2 me im sick ]  
[ Brian❤️: give me a moment dear ]

Brian reaches over to the nightstand where his mother had left a tall glass of water for his sore throat. 

He needs to get himself together as much as possible before talking to Roger, so he won't notice Brians sick state. 

Brian has been staying over too often at Rogers house in the past few months. He eats all their food and takes away time Rogers fathers want to spend with their son alone. 

They didn't ask if he wanted to spend Christmas with them, assuming Brian wanted to spend it with his christian family. 

He doesn't want to be rude and invite himself. He doesn't have the right to ask the family for even more. 

He doesn't deserve it.

[ INCOMING FACETIME CALL ROGER MAY ] flashes onto his phone screen.

Brian uses the corner of his sheets to wipe away the sweat on his forehead. He turns the bedside lamp off, so Roger won't notice the flush of his face and the dark circles under his drowsy eyes.

He doesn't want to come across as pathetic as he feels.

He coughs twice to get rid of the scratchy lump in his throat, before answering the call.

[ CONNECTING FACETIME WITH ROGER MAY ]

"Bri..." 

The whiny pitch of his boyfriends voice instantly makes Brian smile, but also cringe at the throb the sharp pitch causes against his skull. 

"Hello, beautiful." Brian snorts sarcastically. 

Roger looks even more awful than Brian feels. 

That says something. 

His blond hair is matted against his sweaty forehead. His cheeks are red with fever. His smile is weak, but brightens as soon as he sees Brian. 

"Baby, I'm actually dead." Roger voice is raspy and barely above a whisper. 

Brian wants to crawl through the phone and wrap his arms around him to stop his violent shivers. "You sure look it." 

Roger is laid out on the couch in the living room. Brian can see the Christmas tree in the background and his head leaning against the soft couch pillows. 

He is bundled up in Brians favorite purple hoodie, covered by his duvet. His laptop is on his lap in an angle that should be unflattering, but Roger is still the most beautiful person Brian has ever laid eyes upon.

"You'd still do me though." Roger chuckles which defuses into a coughing fit. "Fuck."

"Yeah I would." Brian smiles lovingly at the unflattering way Roger doesn't cover his mouth while coughing his lungs up. "You're gross." 

"Sorry." Roger half heartedly pushes his face in Brians purple hoodie until he is done coughing. 

"You got it bad, babe." 

Rogers eyes are watery when he looks up again, Brian feels an ache to stroke his messy blond hair back from his sweaty forehead. 

"Will you come over?" Roger pouts at him through the screen. "I know it's Christmas and you're busy... But I need hugs." 

A smile spreads over Brians face even though it makes his nose run. "Roger, I-"

"I can hold you, dear!" Freddie comes jumping into view behind Roger. He leans forward to plant a kiss on Rogers burning cheek.

"Hello, Brian. Merry early Christmas." 

Brian leans his head subtly away from the phone, because Freddie's voice is a tad too loud. 

"Hi Freddie." 

Freddie puts his head on Rogers shoulder and smiles into the camera. Roger tiredly leans his head against Freddie and shuts his eyes. 

"Are you alright, darling? You sound a bit down." 

Brian feels warmth spread in his chest and for once it's not the fever. 

He's flattered that Freddie noticed his off mood. 

"I am okay." Brian lies through his teeth. He manages a strained smile through the undeniable nausea creeping up his throat. "Just slept pretty bad."

Freddie is still frowning doubtfully, but he lets it go reluctantly. "Alright dear. Let us know if we can do anything for you."

"Okay." He rasps out with a heavy heart. There are a million things he is aching to tell Freddie, but he doesn't know how to voice those needs without sounding like a free loader.

He would rather be napping with Roger, drinking Johns amazing tea and listening to Freddie's soft jazzy music, than sitting home alone sick in his dirty bed. 

"I'm fine." 

Lies.

Freddie sighs. "If you say so, dear..."

"Leave 'm alone." Roger mumbles half asleep against his father. His eyes fluttering behind the lids as he drowses. 

Freddie rubs his cheek against Rogers like a kitten with an adoring pout. "My poor baby." 

He looks up at Brian again and speaks softly for once to not disturb his son. "Why don't you come over, Brian? Roger has been feverishly whining about you all evening long." 

Brian snorts. 

He to play it cool, but he feels a weight lifted off his shoulders with the invitation. 

Yet he hesitates. "Won't Mr. Deacon mind? It's Christmas time after all..." 

"Of course not, dear." Freddie gasps dramatically. "I asked because Roger wants you here, who even cares what Deacy wants-"

"I heard that!" Comes a distant voice off camera.

"Love you, dearest!" Freddie calls back with a wink at the camera. "You don't have to stay long. Just come and say hello."

Brian doesn't need any more convincing.

"I'm on my way."

~~~

Usually taking the tube to Rogers house is an easy quick journey for Brian.

Roger lives in a nicer neighborhood further into the city, while Brians family owns a home just outside London. 

He has to walk ten minutes to the tube station, ride the metro for less than five. Before stepping out to walk the last two minutes to Rogers home.

He packed the soup his mother had made for him, so he could give it to Roger instead. The bag on his shoulder weighs him down.

His entire body feels too heavy for his weak limbs. His feet drag lazily over the pavement. His eyes are barely squinted open. The light of the sun is too bright for his headache.

It's cold. His fever keeps him sweating in his thick coat, but shivers run down his spine constantly. 

The 20 minute journey feels like a marathon on bare feet on the actual North Pole. His muscles are sore with the physical strain of walking. 

Everything hurts.

Everything sucks.

It's Christmas and his parents should be home. He is cold, sluggish, coughing, sneezing and wheezing. 

His mother should be cooking for him and holding him close. 

His father should be tugging him in bed and keeping him company until he feels better.

But now, Brian has to go out in the cold, while he can barely stand on his feet because of his fever, only to see Roger for a couple of minutes.

This Christmas has pathetic written all over it.

So by the time Brian finally knocks on the front door of the Deacon household, he is rilled up with emotions and pain.

He's just so tired.

"Good afternoon, Brian." John opens the door with an easy smile. "Merry Christmas." 

The usually collected and somewhat grumpy father is cheerfully grinning, wearing an ugly Grinch themed Christmas sweater, and opening the door wider to invite Brian in. 

"We've been waiting for you." 

Brian can't help it. 

Fresh tears start to prickle at the corner of his eyes. His heart aches for his mothers sweet Christmas spirit. He craves a bed and a pillow. Some goddamn warmth. 

Johns facial expression sinks instantly. "Are you okay?" 

"I don't want to intrude on family time." It all comes out as a raspy gibberish mess. His throat tightens in pain and snot threatens to roll out of his nose. "I know that I have been around a lot... Not always on an invite. I eat all your food and spend time with Roger when you want to spend time with him. So I'm sorry if-"

"Brian." John stops him by laying a gentle hand on his shoulder and ducks down to catch Brians eyes. "Honey, don't be daft. You are family." 

Brians can't get himself to look up from his shoes when the tears finally spill, despite Johns best efforts. He is stiff with cold and his limbs are too heavy to keep him upright any longer. 

Everything hurts. 

"I don't feel so well." He pipes out quietly, but John must have caught it anyway.

Next thing he knows, Brian is pulled inside the heavenly warm house. John slides his bag off his shoulders and puts it on the floor. 

"Oh dear..." Then to Brians utter surprise he leans forward to unzip Brians coat for him. "You look just as horrible as Roger."

Brian doesn't have the energy to help while John shifts his coat off his frame. Instead, Brian leans against the wall beside him to keep himself from sinking to the floor.

"Why did your parents allow you to go out like this?" John mumbles in disapproval while he gets to his knees to pull Brians sneakers off his cold feet. "You have a fever." 

Brian leans his hot face against the cool wall for some much needed relief when his head grows too heavy for his neck. Half heartedly he lifts his leg slightly for John.

"Not home." 

John halts halfway through pulling off Brians left shoe. "But it's Christmas."

Brian knows that with his pale complexion, steady stream of tears rolling down his cheeks and his sweaty body he looks like a complete miserable mess. But can't quite collect himself anymore at this point.

"They're working." He sniffs. 

Twenty minutes ago, when he was still home in his bed he might have cared about how pathetic he sounds, but now all he wants is to lay down.

"Come on, lets get you settled then." 

John gets to his feet, before forcing Brian off the wall. 

Brians legs are wobbly, the room is spinning and walking makes him nauseous, but he allows John to lead him into the living room.

The house is pleasantly dark and quiet, beside Rogers soft snores coming from the bundle of cushions and blankets on the couch. 

Brians heart aches at the sight of Roger. He is still pale all over, but cheeks flushed pink. His lips are slack and wet, but his clothes are soaked with sweat. He doesn't even notice the two of them hanging over his sleeping form. 

Brian wonders if he looks just as sick, before he turns to John with hooded eyes. "You already got your hands full." 

"Don't be ridiculous. What is another half dead boy?" John mumbles as he pushes the blanket back for Brian. "It's only logical you two catch the virus at the same time. With each others tongues always down one another's throats."

Roger curls in on himself protectively against the sudden cold and whimpers. 

"Now get in." John orders Brian sternly. "Before my son freezes."

Brian can't actually object to lying down. He feels weak and unstable on his feet.

He climbs onto the couch behind his boyfriend and spoons him against his chest.

He's slept on this couch countless of times before, but this is most definitely the most comfortable time. His entire body relaxes into the couch instantly.

His chest is pressed against Rogers heat radiating back. They're both sweat soaked, but Brian couldn't be less bothered.

"Get some sleep. You can stay here until your parents get home to take care of you." John leans forward to brush Brians hair away from his forehead.

His fingers are long, cool and gentle as they comb his hair back. The way he usually caresses Roger. 

Brians eyes involuntary close almost immediately at the soothing sensation. 

Roger subconsciously presses himself closer against Brians chest and gets a grip on the arm Brian has slung over his chest. 

"Hmmmm..." 

He can feel John tug the blanket over him and Roger before going back to scrape his blunt nails over Brians scalp gently.

The sensation sends relaxing prickles all over Brians body. He feels his headache dull ever so little and his nausea simmers down. 

Johns fingers are firm and skilled on his forehead and know exactly where to apply pressure in the much needed scalp massage.

Brians mouth drops open in a satisfied 'o'. 

"Fred," Johns voice is quiet, but Brian can just catch it through his sleepy haze. "Will you get some tea ready for when the boys wake up? Their voices are raspy."

"Of course dearest." Freddie pauses, before another hand lands on Brians scorching forehead. 

Brian huffs at the cool large hand and leans into it subtly. 

"Poor boy. I knew something was off."

"His parents are both working." John says disapprovingly. If Brian was more coherent he might have come to his parents defense, but he physically can't manage that now. "I told him he is staying with us." 

"Good call." 

Brian hooks one leg between Rogers to plaster himself completely against the blond to latch onto his body heat. 

"They're quite precious aren't they?" Freddie comments from somewhere above Brian.

"It's going to be a quiet Christmas, despite the full house." John says with a snort. Not once faltering in the head massage. "Brians presents are under the tree?"

Brians ears perk up at the words. He hadn't expected any present from the Deacons. Let alone several. 

"Wha?" Is all he manages to croak out.

The two men chuckle above him, before Freddie adds, "Of course they are. Now try to get some sleep, Brian."

Brian lets out a heavy sigh as soon as Freddie pulls his blissfully cool hand back. 

"Do you want a drink as well, dearest?"

"No..." John replies softly. "I'm gonna stay here and watch over the boys for a bit." 

"Alright." Freddie's soft footsteps slowly fade into the background. 

Brian still feels weak.

He wants to throw up, he's cold and dizzy. His throat is raw and his stomach churns angrily. 

But he is no longer lonely or miserable. 

How could he be? With Freddie in the kitchen making him tea, Roger snoring in his arms and John Deacon massaging his head.

~~~

After Brian wakes up from his blissful dreamless sleep, he doesn't physically feel any better.

It's already evening, but neither he or Roger can keep down the bean and cheese enchiladas John had so thoughtfully prepared for them with Brians vegetarian lifestyle in mind.

Instead, the two teens suck on salted crackers and popsicles for the rest of the evening.

They half heartedly watch while Freddie and John play a game of Christmas themed monopoly. The two of them also play for Roger and Brian. 

Roger is hilarious while he's deluded with fever. Everything is a joke and he is more clingy than usually. Perhaps also because neither of them have the energy to pull themselves away from one another.

They fall asleep during Love, Actually. 

Roger is plastered on Brians chest fast asleep, drooling and snoring on his shirt. 

Brian would have stroked his blond hair back if he had enough energy to lift his arm.

In the background Brian can hear Freddie and John argue over what movie to watch next. 

They keep it quiet enough for Brian to drowse between awake and asleep for another hour or so. The fever keeps him uncomfortable and awake while the exhaustion tries to pull him under.

Sleep eventually wins out. 

~~~

Brian wakes up to Roger kissing his cheek. 

He is still sick, but he can lift his own cup of tea instead of drinking it out of a straw like the day before. 

It's Christmas. Which apparently means a mountain of presents in the Deacon household. 

Brian was afraid it would be awkward to watch the others unpack while he got nothing, but he soon finds out that he was not on the naughty list this year.

They bought him a bunch of useful presents. Guitar strings, a new stereoscope, two thick books on astrology and astronomy and a large stargazer. Roger gave him a mixtape of all their favorite songs. 

Brian had only brought Roger something. Which he feels incredibly awful for, but his financial situation couldn't allow more. 

It is a photo album full of pictures of them together and their memorable dates and milestones.

Roger kisses him sloppily on the lips in front of his fathers. Brians heart flutters with pride at how happy Roger is with his home crafted present. 

They're both exhausted from all the excitement as soon as they're done with presents.

Brian and Roger take a nap until dinner.

Freddie sets the table. John makes a soup dish on the side for the sick boys and Brian calls his mothers work to wish her a merry Christmas. Then he calls his father to find out he is stuck in france with the bus. They're both warm and safe.

With Roger in his arms and food in his stomach, it's enough for Brian.

"You okay, Bri?" Rogers voice croaks dangerously. His eyes are glassed over. But he is smiling at Brian with adoration. 

As much in love with Brian as Brian is with him. 

"Yes." Despite feeling nauseous, dizzy and his nose running. "I'm good." 

He smiles back, before ducking down to lazily press his lips against Rogers. "Merry Christmas." 

"Merry Christmas, Bri."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy and safe holidays! Please leave a comment


	4. You and I met where when and how?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So how did Roger and Brian actually meet one another?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy birthday to my beautiful friend Sugarbubble tea who helps me write every damn day.  
> She talks me off the ledge and literally keeps me on my game and toes. 
> 
> Sorry fot every comment on the last cjapter I didn’t reply yet. I will tomorrow morning. I reas them all but It rakes hours to respond. Hours I didn’t have to spare in the holiday weeks. Sorry. Tomorrow I’ll answer all your sweet comments. You guys are so kind I cry actually almost every time I get to read your comments after publishing and reading them in the rush. It’s amazing. Bless you all for commenting.

Every year in February, St. Winchester school holds an annual talent show. 

Every student can participate with any talent they might have. Ranging from singing, playing piano, cirques tricks, or an occasional strip tease. 

Whatever the casting teachers thought was worth a shot.

Roger had initially wanted to participate with his drums. He’d wanted to show off his fills and percussion in his own signature style.

He has his eyes on the £100 pound price for the winner.

He’s been practicing for weeks in his basement to get the performance down in all its details. Throwing his drum sticks in the air, cool hand tricks and fast paced action on his snare drum.

Sadly, while the drama and music teachers are holding auditions they tell him he wasn’t going to be allowed to set up his drum kit. 

“I swear I can set it up in record time!” Roger had begged Mrs Wilson, his stone cold drama teacher. 

He’s always been convinced that she hates him. He’s a horrible actor and makes jokes throughout her class out of pure boredom.

She’s also very obviously uncomfortable about his homosexuality. Which makes for an amazing way to annoy the older woman. 

Roger can’t help who he is, now can he?

“I’m sorry Mr. Taylor. If you don’t have your equipment set up right now, you cannot audition, you can’t be a part of the talent show.” 

Her little smug smile makes Roger want to snap his drum sticks. 

Sadly, she’s in power in this situation.

Roger purses his lips and stomps off the stage with clenched wrist. Fuck her anyway, he grumbled under his breath. His blood rushing through his body with hot anger. 

“Wait- Roger.” His music teacher Mr. Harrison calls him back. “I know you’re an excellent singer as well. Why don’t you sing a piece during the show?” 

Roger halts halfway off the podium and turns his sour expression back to his two teachers. “That’s boring!” He exclaims with wide eyes. “Ten others will do a stupid song as well.”

Mr. Harrison chuckles. He likes Roger very much, despite his temper and back mouthing. He’s one of his most talented students “Then make it not boring. I know you got it in you.” 

Roger takes a deep breath to calm himself down. 

The white hot anger at Mrs. Wilson washes to the background. He’d really looked forward to participate for months. The extra money would be a good thing too. He’s been out of money ever since buying his new tom-toms. 

Singing is his next greatest talent after drumming after all.

“I’m not sure if I can think of anything special to do with singing. I’m not much of a dancer.”

“I’m sure you’ll think of something. Surprise us, surprise yourself.” Mr Harrison clasps his hands together confidently. “You’re in, Roger.”

Roger could have protested, he hadn’t expected to sing or be given an assignment to bring an element of surprise, but the wide eyed annoyance in Mrs. Wilsons face was enough to get him excited about the idea.

“Thank you, sir!” He exclaims with a shit eating grin. “I won’t disappoint.”

As soon as he leaves the stage, the wheels in Rogers head start turning with creativity. 

~~~

He needs to do something special. 

Something shocking. 

Something that’ll have Mrs. Wilsons homophobic panties in a twist. And make himself 100 pounds richer. 

Rogers mind keeps whirling. He struggles with the idea for days. He keeps going through his Spotify playlists to find the right song to perform.

He needs something interesting. Something that’s him, funny and strangely sexy.

Hmmm....

He’s watching RuPauls Dragrace with Freddie. A throwback to Season 3 when it strikes him.

[ https://youtu.be/tatoplO2A70 ] Manila Lip-syncing against her best friend. She’s a man dressed as a woman performing one of the most iconic songs every written.

Roger loves to sing that song in the shower. When nobody can hear him.

He knows that he can hit those notes. He knows nobody else would expect it... He’s known for his rock. 

Roger used to love season 3 of Drag Race when it came out seven years ago. He’d been a little boy at the time and all he wanted was to be Manila Luzon in drag.

Much to Johns mortification, people already thought that two gay dads automatically turn their kids homosexual as well. Roger insisting on wigs, lipstick and dresses was not helping the stereotype. 

And Freddie could only proudly put a wig over Rogers head and smile. 

“Pap, how quickly can you sow me a yellow dress?” Roger asks, seven years later. He feels nostalgic and a smile tug at the corners of his lips. 

It’s genius- and crazy. 

Perfect.

Freddie looks away from the television with a raised eyebrow. “Like Manila’s big bird dress?”

“Exactly!” 

“Right.” Freddie pauses the television to grab his sketch book. “I’m not even going to ask. I’ve wanted to do this for years.”

Roger just leans over the couch to kiss his fathers cheek in gratitude. “I’m gonna make you proud.”

~~~

A few minutes before showtime, Roger is standing backstage of the schools theater.

He and the 20 other contestants have 3 minutes to perform for the judging panel containing Mrs Wilson, Mr Harrison and the headmaster.

Roger has been in corset, dressed up in his big bird costume and wig all evening. 

On his say to school on the tube someone had called him ma’m and offered him a seat- which was an unforgettable experience. 

Backstage, he doesn’t think people immediately recognize him. They’re busy being nervous for their own upcoming performance and staring at his bare legs. 

He himself is not quite anxious anymore about performing on stage. He knows he’s a good vocalist. He knows he looks amazing.

He knows his fathers will enjoy the performance no matter how well it goes. 

He’s convinced he has the price is within reach for him to snatch- 

Until a tall man with flared jeans lines up behind him.

Roger turns fully around to gape at the man. 

His heart skips a beat. Maybe two. 

He is the tallest person in the room, by far. His hair is a curly mess on his head, all dark and mysterious. 

He’s standing quietly all by himself, just a few steps behind Roger. 

He has a long, sharp and attractive face. His eyes completely focused on his instrument while he’s last minute tuning it. 

His long bony fingers gently play and skim over the strings of the red guitar strapped around him. Roger wonders what else those strong skilled fingers might be capable of. 

He is afraid he might actually be drooling. 

“Do you like it? I made it myself.” The man shows his guitar off with a grin. His eyes completely focused on Rogers eyes instead of traveling down his dress like most guys had done that evening. “I’m Brian, I’m new and not great at starting conversations.” 

Roger has never in his life felt the physical need to actually come up to someone and squeeze their perfect face. 

But this boy- no, man. Tall and proud with his homemade guitar was different.

Rogers heart beats out of his chest as their eyes meet again. Rogers eyes are hooded by the heavy eyelashes his father had applied.

“You’re the most beautiful person I have ever seen.” He blurts out without thinking. 

He could kick himself.

Brian lets out a snort, not even looking at Roger anymore as he’s casually tuning his guitar. 

“I’m gay.” 

Roger doesn’t hesitate another moment and pulls off his wig. “And I’m not a woman.” 

Even without the wavy blond wig, Brian doesn’t look quite convinced with a raised eyebrow. 

“I swear to God, I am a guy.” He bites his lip and glances down at his dress, for the first time that night he feels nervous. “My name is Roger and this is an all boys school. They’d never let me in if I weren’t.”

Brian already looks way out of Rogers league. He doesn’t necessarily want to flash Brian in order to convince him he’s very much a guy under all the makeup and glitter. But he is not above it. He’s just afraid he’ll look even more crazy. 

“Please, don’t make me show you my dick before our first date.” 

Brian bursts out in uncontrollable laughter. “It’s just- the voice, your eyes... The legs.”

So he does like the legs.

Roger feels his nerves even out at the ringing sound of Brians angelic smile. 

It warms something in his chest and he sighs in relief. He likes a man who can handle a joke- someone who isn’t fragile in his masculinity. “I even shaved them for the occasion.”

“I’m sure you did.” Brian snorts. “Go big or go home.”

“That’s exactly what my father said when he dressed me up.” 

Brian raises his eyebrows in surprise. “You got a pretty cool dad.” He takes a cautious step forward to scan Rogers sparkling face. “He’s surprisingly good with fashion and makeup.”

“My father is gay.” Roger says fondly. John had always been uncomfortable dressing Roger up when he was a child. Because gossip went around that the two gay fathers were forcing their sexuality on their child. 

But now that his son is older and very confident in his own sexuality, John had apologized for his past behavior and helped Roger zip up the dress and put on the wig.

“That’s- cool, I guess. How did that happen?” Brian asks playfully.

“That’s a long story. Maybe I can tell you on a-” Roger had popped his hip out and worked his most flirtatious smile, before Mrs Wilson comes ducking behind the coulisse with the nights program in her hands. 

“Roger Taylor is up next-” She stops reading to scan him down. 

Her face morphs into an unhappy scowl at the sight of his short yellow feather dress. “Right...” 

Roger takes a step forward into her personal bubble- and twirls on the tips of his ballerinas to show off the dress Freddie had made for him. A simple playoff Manilas dress. 

When he stops turning he winks at her. “Don’t I look pretty? I might show up to all my classes dressed up and pretty.”

Something almost too satisfying to be considered healthy rushes through Roger when he sees Mrs. Wilsons face flush and grind her teeth.

“Mr Taylor. I will not allow such-” 

“Is there a problem ma’m?” Brian puts a big hand on Rogers shoulder. 

He feels warmth spread over his entire body from where Brian is touching him.

Roger wants to melt. 

“I-” Mrs. Wilson glances between the two of them and something clicks. 

“Hm?” Roger boldly wraps an arm around Brians waist, mindful of his precious guitar. He hopes he isn’t pushing it, because Brian feels absolutely perfect against him. Almost strangely familiar. “What was it you wanted to say?” 

Her eyes turn cold and she takes a step back from them. As if they’re carrying something contagious. “Two minutes and you’re on.” 

“Thank you ma’m.” Brian nods solemnly with in icy pitch to his voice that sends shivers down Rogers spine.

Together they watch her stumble back onto stage to announce Roger.

“Sorry- that woman.” Brian scoffs. “I don’t think she likes homosexuals so much.”

Roger is relieved Brian doesn’t pull back from Rogers hold the minute she leaves. Instead, Roger almost feels like he’s leaning closer into the half embrace. 

“You think so?” He has to tilt his chin to make proper eye contact with Brian. 

“She’s probably just jealous of how you can pull that dress of.” Brian blinks down at him with a half smile. 

Roger can’t help but notice that his eyes are deep and dark with black lusting pupil. Brian might not be into women, but men in dresses wasn’t something he really seems to mind.

“That’s the most likely scenario, yeah.” Roger grins, before regretfully letting go of Brian. “I’m up any moment now.” 

“Right.” Brian releases him and takes a step back. “Of course, maybe you want to put that wig back on again.” 

Roger does just that. He adjusts the wig, powders his face one last time and re-applies his lipstick to brighten them. 

He feels Brian look at him while he’s freshening up in the mirror of his eyeshadow palette.

“I think I’m ready.” He tugs away his makeup in his bag that he leaves backstage. “What do you think?”

Brian swallows nervously. “You look- good.” 

They quietly stare at one another, even though it’s almost too dark to make out any details in their faces from a certain distance. 

Roger closes his eyes to calm his heart beat. 

He can’t leave today without at least trying to get this guys number. He would forever regret it. The school is too big to just seek him out again. 

Brian might be out of his league, new student, dark and mysterious, but Roger is bold and he knows that his charms can get him quite far when he wants to. 

“How about, if I win the talent show I’ll take you out on a date.” Roger asks, already standing on the stairs to get up the stage. “With the price money.”

“What if I am the one to win?” Brian asks while barely containing his smile. His cheeks are flushed and his eyes sparkle dangerously.

Roger knows he has him. 

“Then you take me out on a date.” Roger says with a shit eating grin. “A win-win situation.” 

Brian licks his lips- Roger slowly traces the movement with his eyes. 

“What if neither of us win?”

“Then we’ll have to find comfort in each others arms.” Roger shrugs. “Obviously.”

“Right, obviously.” Brian shakes his head with a chuckle. His messy curls blocking his vision for a moment.

“And now- put your hands together for the one and only Roger Taylor, performing MacArthur Park out of all songs.” Mrs Wilson chuckles nervously from on the stage. “He’ll come out with a peculiar surprise for you tonight.”

An energy rush goes through Roger and he takes a deep calming breath to ease himself. 

He’s not nervous. He just needs to contain the adrenaline.

He knows his fathers are in the audience in two different sports with two cameras to capture every needed angle for an extravagant home video.

He’ll have to nail this to impress them, Mr. Harrison and Brian. 

He got this. 

He shakes himself out of it and marches up the stairs of the stage. 

“Roger-”

Brian grabs his arm before Roger can step onto the spotlight. 

Rogers heart is beating out of his chest. He hopes there’s no sweaty spots on his dress. 

Their eyes meet one more time and something deep inside Roger stirs. Something warm and sweet he’s never felt before.

“Yes?”

Brian bites his lip. “Good luck.”

“Thanks.” Roger laughs breathlessly. “I’ll think of you while I shimmy my ass.”

“You’re a special kinda guy.” Brian comments thoughtfully. His large hand still wrapped around Rogers forearm. 

Neither of them want to let go.

But the spotlight turns on, Mrs. Wilson hands Roger the microphone without a word as she brushes past them backstage. 

The intro music starts. 

“Go kill it.” Brian laughs, before pushing Roger onto the stage. “Think of our date!” 

 

\- And despite Roger giving the performance his all. Sweat dripping down his forehead and voice carrying through the theater. People in the front row have tears streaming down their faces when he hits the final notes. Freddie yelling his name from the middle of the crowd almost louder than the actual music itself and John is practically climbing the stage to capture the his full performance on camera- 

Neither he or Brian win the grand price. 

A boy had taught his far cat to jump through big sparkly hoops, which apparently is a lot more interesting than Brians heartfelt self written song and Rogers outstanding vocals. 

It might have something to do with Mrs. Wilsons influences on the judging panel, but Roger supposes he’ll never know.

Luckily, by the end of the show Brian gives Roger something worth much more than a 100 pound bill. 

His 10 digit number. And a promise for next Tuesday. 

 

Rogers performance: [ imagine him singing this live: https://youtu.be/583M9HDggqQ ]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave a comment. I wrote this like at ten pm today and tokd myself no sleep before this is done. I am so tired
> 
> Happy 2019 in a few days. Sneak peak of next year??  
> An Alpha Brian and Omega Roger at least 30.000 word fic written by me. 
> 
> And of course more of this fic. What about a smut scene and Rogers origin story how he got adopted?


	5. You and I get in serious trouble

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roger and Brian get into an argument. Roger decides to attend a wild party by himself. It doesn’t go well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, so if you have any triggers please please get to the bottom notes (at the end off the fic) to read them. If you don’t have triggers please don’t read them because they’re spoilers.  
> ALSO CAN YOU BELIEVE IM BACK??!,??  
> I had a lot of research done writing this but I love you guys sorry for the long wait. I absolutely love your support and wriring for you guys. I actually had exams and insecurities. I publish maybe 5% of what I write and that’s the sad truth

[ Roger May: Are you coming 2 Richards house tonight or what? ]  
[ Brian❤️: Roger. I already told you I have a test on Monday. I have to study. So should you. ]  
[ Brian❤️: and I cant stand Richards parties. they're messy]  
[ Roger May: Please babe. I won't know anyone else 😭  I need to get out of the house]  
[ Brian❤️ : No ]  
[ Roger May: If you love me you'll come ]  
[ Brian❤️: I do love you, but no ]  
[ Roger May: you promised to come!!!!!!!!!]  
[ Brian❤️: I said I'd think about coming if I was done studying. Which I'm not.]  
[ Roger May: you're boring.]  
[ Brian❤️: And you only know how to be fun when you're drunk]

It's strange for Roger to be out alone.

Ever since he started dating Brian, for about a year ago now, they've become inseparable. 

Being together isn't only more secure and safe at the wild parties Roger likes to attend, but it's also much more fun with the two of them.

Now that Roger has gone over to Richards house all on his own, he's been lamely sipping his lemonade in the living room. Leaning against the wall while he watches others dance and have a good time.

Not him of course. 

Several people have tried to get him on the dance floor or offered him a joint. 

Its just that Roger has a hard time finding the joy in it without Brian by his side. 

He's never been this combination of drunk, bored in his entire life. 

"Hey Roger!" Richard- the host of the party himself, bumps into him with a sly grin. 

It's unfair to blame the party for his boredom. Roger honestly has just forgotten how to have fun without his boyfriend.

It's pathetic. John would kill him if he found out Roger depends on another man to have a good time.

But its the truth. 

He needs Brian to enjoy himself. 

"Isn't your boyfriend here?"

Roger isn't even that close to Richard, they go to school together and used to be on the same soccer team. 

The only reason why Roger replies is because he's already tipsy and a bit emo over the argument he had with Brian over text. 

"No. He's at home being a bore."

He pouts, feeling sad and down despite the tingling of alcohol rushing through his veins.

It's definitely not enough alcohol to make him forget about all of his sorrows, but he needs to walk himself home. He can't drink much more, or he'll have trouble navigating his way back.

"It's weird seeing you without Brian! You're usually attached to the hip-" Richard chuckles, leaning into Rogers personal space as he does. 

Roger takes a tentative step back, he never liked how touchy feely Richard is with him. Always making excuses to talk with Roger alone or unnecessarily make contact him.

Then suddenly, Roger feels his phone buzzing in his pocket.

"Just a second." He mumbles half heartedly, before hastily opening his messenger.

When Brians name flashes across the screen Rogers heart does a happy backflip in the hopes of getting an apology. 

But when he reads the message he's instantly disappointed. 

[ Brian ❤️: And don't drink too much]

Roger doesn't understand why it pisses him off so much when Brian tells him what to do.

Maybe it's the alcohol? Or all the people around him enjoying themselves while he's bored? Maybe it's because he deep down misses Brian.

Either way, it does piss Roger off. 

It's hurtful. They've been dating each other for over 11 months and Roger hadn't done anything to betray Brians trust.

It makes Rogers stomach churn and cheeks flush with anger. 

He's not a child. He knows his alcohol limits and when to slow down the partying.

Roger is spewing fumes through the phone when he clumsily texts back:

[ Roger May: If you want to control me, you should be here]  
[ Roger May: You don't get to tell me what to do when you can't bother taking care of me] 

"Trouble in paradise?" 

Roger had almost forgotten about Richard hovering him, this time with a drink in his hand.

"None of your business." Roger grits his teeth and shoves his phone back into his pocket. "I hate men."

Richard laughs tightly, before extending the drink to Roger. "Here, take it. You seem like you could use some loosening up."

Roger nudges his hand away. He doesn't think getting more drunk will solve his problems this time around. 

"No thanks." 

Richard pouts down at him. "Come on, it's gonna make you feel better. I promise." 

He lifts the glass to Rogers mouth and presses the cold brim to Rogers slightly parted lips.

The sharp toxic smell hits Rogers nostrils instantly. 

"No, really. I need to get home later and-" 

But it's rather tempting to just take it anyway. Be irresponsible for a little while. 

The moment Brian had asked Roger not to drink, had made drinking almost a hundred times more appealing.

"It's really good. I grabbed my dads expensive alcohol stash, just for you." Richard promises with a proudly.

"You know what?" Roger takes the glass from Richard and stares into it.

It's good alcohol. Roger knows it won't take much to get drunk on it. Which Brian had explicitly warned him against. 

"Fuck it." He mumbles darkly, before pushing the glass back. The burning liquid slides straight down his throat. 

Fuck Brian and his condescending ass. 

Richard cheers as soon as Roger finishes the glass. He clasps his back while the Roger sputters and coughs. "That's the spirit Blondie."

"Don't call me that." Roger is on his last nerve. He pushes the glass back into Richards hands. "I am really not in the mood." 

"Hey, relax." Richard grins down on him. He's taller than Brian,  towering over Roger. "Let the alcohol do it's thing." 

The effects of the drink is almost instant. The liquid works into his system faster than any beverage has ever done.

Rogers fingers begin to tingle, his head is pleasantly buzzing and if he has to be honest, he feels a bit nauseous. 

"That's some heavy stuff." He still feels the burn in his throat and a horrid aftertaste. "I didn't expect any quality alcohol at one of your parties."

"Like I said, I made that one specially for you." Richard squeezes Rogers arm with a wink. "Because you seemed upset, very out of character."

"You're trying to console me or something?" 

"Of course I am!" Richard nods happily. "If I were Brian, I'd never let you out of my sight, you know."

Roger snorts. The alcohol already loosening him up. 

His head feels a bit lighter and the loud music dulls to the background. "Brian loves me. He usually doesn't have the need to control me." 

But today they're both on each other's nerves. 

Richard leans in and his voice lowers to a whisper. "You don't like being controlled, do you?" 

Roger shrugs. He doesn't like to be told what to do- not outside of bed anyway. 

"I know how to handle myself." 

Richard eyes turn dark and mischievous. "I bet you do."

Roger carefully leans back and is about to ask Richard to move away as well. He doesn't like it when people stand in his personal bubble, but before he gets the words out his phone buzzes in his pants.

"Your boyfriend again?" Richard asks while Rogers fishes the phone out of his pocket. 

Roger nods. His cheeks heating up at the warmth spreading from his heart.

[ Brian ❤️: Don't be like that Rog.]  
[ Brian ❤️: I meant that I'm not there to help you home. So try to be responsible]  
[ Brian ❤️: also have fun, but take care of yourself]

Brian, the stupid dork with his curly hair and overbearing personality knows exactly how to steal Rogers heart, every day again. 

"It's him yeah..." He smiles at his phone, before looking up at Richard again. "He's an idiot, but he's my idiot." 

Richard rolls his eyes. "God, you've become a sap." 

He's beginning to really annoy Roger. The blond is finally feeling a bit better about the Brian situation, the alcohol is giving him a pleasant buzz. 

"Don't you have other people to bother? It's your party after all."

He glances down at his phone to send Brian a reply and make amends. They shouldn't be fighting this close to their exams.

\- But for some reason his vision is swimming. He can't get his eyes to focus on the screen, even though Roger is wearing his lenses.

"Oh no Blondie, I'm here to watch over you." Richard puts the glass he's been holding down. "I wouldn't want you to be alone while- whoa Roger!"

The world begins to spin and Roger feels himself collide sideways against the wall behind him. 

"Fuck."

It's as if he's been drinking all night long instead of downing just a beer and the one drink Richard gave him. His stomach churns angrily and he's lightheaded.

Richard has to help him stay upright while Roger desperately leans against the wall to keep himself from falling over.

"I'm gonna throw up." 

"Try not to!" Richard hastily shrieks, but Roger couldn't care less about ruining the floors- or whatever reason Richard doesn't want him to vomit. 

He usually doesn't tend to feel sick at all after consuming alcohol. Let alone feeling like he just ran a marathon in stilettos after two drinks.

"Rog, deep breaths." Richard keeps holding onto his shoulders. "In and out- follow my lead." 

Roger tugs his phone into his pocket, before he tries to take match Richards exaggerated breaths.

For some reason despite being rather nervous and pumped because of all the dancing people around him, Rogers heart beats extremely slow.

His lungs won't cooperate with him and he begins to sweat. 

Something isn't right.

"Richard." 

Roger worries even more when his limbs begin to grow numb and holding onto the wall becomes impossible.

His legs give out underneath him and the world begins to spin. 

He loses track of time and his surroundings while he slowly slides down the wall.

This can't possibly be good.

He desperately tries to find something- anything to hold onto. 

But his mind and vision are a hazy fog. He can't quite control his body motions anymore.

Hell, he can't even twist his neck to see if anyone notices him passing out on the floor between the heaps of dancing partygoers.

"Need some help with that Richard?" 

"Yes please. He's completely out of it already." 

Roger feels someone grab him by the waist from behind and help him to his feet.

"There you go buddy." 

Roger would have thanked the man if he possessed the ability to do so. His legs are wobbling and his eyes are drooping. 

He can barely make out Richards silhouette right in front of him. 

"Blondie had some of the good stuff!" Richards laughter rings in Rogers ears. "Effect is almost immediate."

Roger begins to wonder what they're talking about. It's definitely about him.

He tries to pay attention to the conversation, but his brain can't seem to string two thoughts together.

"I don't feel so good." 

He's glad the other man is still supporting most of his weight, because Roger can feel his eyes grow heavy. And he can't get them to reopen again.

"Don't worry, I've got you." 

Even though the mans voice is low and reassuring, and he's the only reason why Roger isn't splayed out on the floor- panic still overtakes the small blond.

His heart begins to pound in his ears and he's gasping for air. The room is too crowded and hot for any oxygen. 

"He's getting heavy." The man holding Roger with his strong arms complains over his shoulder. "What do I do with him?"

"I think he's still conscious. Put him on the couch for now." Richard orders. "We'll go from there." 

His breath comes out labored and his mind is blank.

This doesn't feel right. 

Roger begins to feel trapped and claustrophobic while the muscular man lifts him over to the couch with Roger clutched against his chest. 

"Something is wrong." He tries to say, but it comes out as, "Somewing 's wong."

His tongue has grown numb and heavy in his mouth. Taking away his last communication form after his body stopped coordinating and his eyes fell shut. 

"There you go pretty boy."

By the grace of God the two arms around Rogers waist disappear when he is put down onto the couch.

His head is too heavy for his neck and he can't help leaning into the person sitting down beside him. 

The panic begins to swallow Roger- rightfully so. He's out of control of his body and completely at the mercy of a stranger and Richard- practically a stranger as well. 

"How much did you put into that drink?" The shoulder Rogers is leaning against shakes with laughter. "He's completely fucked up." 

Nervous sweat breaks out on Rogers forehead. He feels his phone buzz in his pocket, but he can't find the strength to reach for it.

He can't feel or move his fingers anymore. 

"Help me." His mouth is barely moving as he whimpers into the shoulder of the man beside him. "Something 's wrong."

His entire body begins to tremble while the world is black behind his eyelids and the buzz of alcohol turns into a complete dulling of the world around him.

"It's okay Roger." The person he's leaning against shushes him. "It'll be over soon."

His alcohol tainted breath ghosts over Rogers numb face, while he strokes the blond hair back. 

Tears prickle at the corner of Rogers eyes. He can't move away from the touch.

He's rag-doll in the arms of a stranger.

"Just relax, blondie." Richards leans in to nip at Rogers earlobe teasingly. "Brad and I got you." 

"Stop." He tries to move away, but he barely has the strength to slur the words out. 

"Please stop."

The world around him grows quiet. The music dulls into the background and Roger slumps further into the couch weakly.

The last thing he registers before his mind goes blank is his phone buzzing in his pocket and Richards lips brushing against his own while he whispers.

"He's almost out." 

Roger slips into unconsciousness with hot tears streaming down his numb face.

~~~

[ Brian ❤️: I called you]  
[ Brian ❤️: Like 20 times]  
[ Brian ❤️: Rog... you're not still angry are you?]  
[ Brian ❤️: did you lose your phone?]  
[ Brian ❤️: Okay so you're still angry with me]  
[ Brian ❤️: is the party at least fun?]  
[ Brian ❤️: I do love you, you know]  
[ Brian ❤️: have you fallen asleep?]  
[ Brian ❤️: Freddie says you're still at the party]  
[ Brian ❤️: I was harsh, I know. I'm sorry]  
[ Brian ❤️: You are not only fun when you're drunk. You're always fun]  
[ Brian ❤️: the fun-nest person I know]  
[ Brian ❤️: Is your battery dead?]  
[ Brian ❤️: You're making me worry]  
[ Brian ❤️: I give you two minutes to respond or I'm coming to Richards house to see what you're up to.]  
[ Brian ❤️: I don't care if you think that's controlling or not]

It was no use trying to concentrate on his studies while he doesn't know where Roger is. Or if the blond is still upset. 

Brian doesn't even bother changing his sweatpants and clogs before leaving the house. His mother isn't home to laugh at him and Roger is probably too drunk to notice his attire.

Richards parties are famous for serving too much alcohol, loud music and occasional drugs. The perfect place for hookups. 

Brian doesn't necessarily mind a wild party, but the smell of weed and sweat that hits his nostrils is enough to make him grimace.

"Oh hello." The girl opening the door for Brian is definitely not Richard. Or sober. "You're a bit late aren't ya?"

Before Brian can reply she pulls him inside the house by his sleeve. "But don't worry hot stuff. I'll grab you a beer." 

"No thank you," Brian politely declines while she leads him into the living room. "I'm just looking for Roger. My boyfriend." 

The lights are dimmed inside the house, the music is so loud the girl doesn't even hear Brian before she takes off to get his beer in the mess of grinding bodies. 

It's a sea of people inside the tiny house. The thin walls are vibrating from the loud music. People are making out against the wall, hands down each others pants. There is a joint shared around and a row for the table with drinks. 

"Fuck." How is he ever going to find Roger in this blur of people?

[ Brian ❤️: I'm at the party rn]  
[ Brian ❤️: I come in peace]  
[ Brian ❤️: Just want to know if you're okay]

He bites his lip while he anxiously waits for a reply. 

It's not as if he's never been to a party before, but it's been a while since he's gone to one without Roger.

He awkwardly stands against the wall, towering over everyone else to spy for the familiar mop of long blond hair. 

Suddenly he understands why Roger didn't want to come alone. 

It feels weird watching all the other people coupling and grinding, while Brian stands by the sideline all alone. 

Despite sticking out like a sore thumb, Brian can't find Roger in the crowd. Not even when Brian stands on the tips of his toes to see the other end of the living room, all the way into the garden.

In moments like these Brian wishes Roger wasn't so small. 

"Hey! Brian?" 

Someone taps him on the shoulder and Brian startles out of his concentration. 

"Daisy?" He glances down at the red haired girl with a raised eyebrow. "I didn't take you for the party scene."

She is a lovely girl from Brians astronomy club. And the only fully grown person Brian knows who's smaller than Roger. 

"I was in the neighborhood. Heard the music from across the street so I thought I might check it out." She doesn't seem very drunk, unlike most others in the house. "What brings you here?"

She glances down at Brians attire. Specifically his sweatpants.

"Oh," Brians face heats up. Maybe he shouldn't go out looking like this. "I was just looking for Roger. We had a bit of an argument and he isn't answering his phone."

"Don't worry Bri!" Daisy lays a sympathetic hand on his shoulder, before pointing out into the crowd.

"I just saw him lounging on the couch with Brad and Richard." 

Brian follows the line of her hand, until his eyes land on his boyfriend. Squashed between two other men on a ratty brown couch.

He looks completely shit faced, half asleep, face flushed and his hair matted to his forehead from sweating too much.

Roger usually doesn't drink up to the point of passing out and looking sick, but their argument probably played a factor in that.

"Jesus." Brian scoffs. How did Roger think he was going to make it home in that state? "He drank way too much. Even after I warned him against it."

At least Brian can breathe easily now that he knows Roger is safe. 

His shoulders sag and he sighs in relief when he sees Richard adjust Roger to settle against Brads broad shoulder. 

Thank God someone is looking after him.

"I can hardly blame him." Daisy is looking up at him with a smile. "The alcohol is the only thing that makes the music bearable." 

Brian pretends to laugh at her joke, while he contemplates in his mind what to do next.

He has to find a way to help Roger up and get him home in his half conscious state.

Dragging him through the streets this late at night is not a good idea. They're an easy target for muggers and the police might find it suspicious. 

Maybe he should just call Freddie to pick them up. With some luck he won't tell John about Rogers drunk state and the blond won't be grounded for the next few weeks. 

Brian takes his phone out of his pocket and shoots Freddie a message.

[ Brian May: Good evening]  
[ Brian May: Sorry for the late hour, but Roger is pretty drunk and I don't think using public transport is really an option]  
[ Freddie: Oh dear! You're there with him?]  
[ Freddie: He isn't answering his phone. John is already putting his shoes on to pick him up. He'll drop you off on the way.]

So much for not getting Roger grounded.

[ Brian May: Yes I'm here with him. Do you need the address?]  
[ Freddie: No that's fine darling, John knows where Richard lives]  
[ Freddie: Keep an eye out for Roger until John is there, will you dear?]  
[ Brian May: Of course]

"Hey Brian," Daisy taps his shoulder to get him to stop glancing down at his screen. "He's not there anymore." 

"What-" 

Brian almost drops his phone when he sees that indeed Roger has disappeared.

In fact, the entire couch is empty. 

"Brian, are you okay?" 

Brians heart begins to race. His palms are sweaty. 

"He's in no state to walk." He pushes himself off the wall and scans the room for the three guys. "Let alone be gone with a bunch of strangers." 

This situation doesn't make sense. Roger was about to pass out. Too drunk to even stay upright. 

How could he get out of the living room in a matter of seconds?

"Don't worry Bri, we'll find him. He can't be far." Daisy pushes into action as well. 

Richard must have helped him up- carried him somewhere. 

If Brian has to be honest, he doesn't like the way Richard is always all over Roger. Trying to subtly touch him, pat his shoulder, steal a hug, stroke his hair while he's half passed out on the couch-

"Daisy. Come upstairs with me now." 

Brian hopes he's wrong. Begs God he's on the wrong trail of thoughts. 

But if it's true-

"What's wrong?" Daisy's eyes are wide and afraid. "Brian?"

He grabs her arm and rushes towards the staircase. 

"We need to check the bedrooms." 

He's never been upstairs in this house before, so he doesn't hesitate to kick open any of the doors to make sure Roger isn't there. 

In the study and bathroom people were making out or already having sex. In the master bedroom a group of people were passing a joint around in a circle. 

Brian was quick to mumble an apology and get to the next door. Only checking whether Roger, Richard or Brad were there before moving on. 

His heart is pounding in his ears. He feels sweat drip down his forehead when the fourth room they check is dark and empty, leaving only one room where Roger could be.

Else, he could be anywhere. Doing God knows what.

Brian begins to feel extremely helpless. He's shaking with fear. 

Where is Roger? 

"Brian slow down!" Daisy closes every door behind him with an apology for the people they disturbed. 

Both of them out of breath while they explore the first floor. 

"You don't think Roger is cheating on you or something right? He was barely awake. He would never do that."

He ignores her in order to push through the last door they haven't checked at the end of the hallway.

There's no lights on, but there's the sound of people whispering and shuffling around. 

Brians thoughts are running wild with possibilities. It's torture. 

He's always pecked Richard for an idiot, but an assaulter? 

Brian shakes the thought off. He takes a deep breath and pushes the door open forcefully. Daisy hot on his heel as he barges into the dimly lit room.

At first, he sees nothing. His eyes have to adjust to the darkness.

He can only recognize two long figures hovering over the bed, whispering to one another. He can’t make out the words, because of the pounding of his own heart beat in his ears.

Brian blindly searches for a light switch, but it’s Daisy who finds it first. 

Nobody in the room notices their presence until the lights turn on.

Brad and Richard jump at the sudden interruption. Brad tumbles to the floor with a yelp and Richard yells out in surprise. 

It’s not the last scream to come from the bedroom that night. 

Brian sees red when he takes in the scene in front of him.

Finally he’s found Roger. Laying face down on the bed, his pants pulled halfway down his thighs. His shoes scattered carelessly onto the floor. 

He’s still wearing his underwear.

He motionless like a doll, besides the steady rise and fall of his chest to confirm he’s still breathing. 

Alive.

Richard, much taller and broader than Brian himself stands hunched over him. His belt undone and a hand down his underwear.

There’s a package of condoms on the bed and a bottle of lube.

Beside Brian, Daisy clasps a hand over her mouth and gasps.

What happens next is beyond Brians control.

He can’t even remember jumping onto the much taller Richard and punching him to the ground. 

But his mind goes blank. He’s high on adrenaline and instinct.

Driven by the shock of his boyfriend passed out on his stomach at the mercy of two strangers. 

Brians head goes offline. 

Next thing he knows, three people are holding him back. He struggles against their restrain until he actually realizes what he is doing. 

He squeezes his eyes closed and blinks. His heart is beating too fast against his ribcage.

The bedroom is suddenly full of people, some people are holding Brad and Richard pinned to the floor. Others are cursing and spitting on the two lads.

Someone is on the phone yelling into the receiver for 112. 

Brad and Richard are only half conscious and groaning.

There is blood. A lot of it.

Some of it is on people's faces, some on Brians fist. He can't even remember how it happened. 

That is, until his eyes land on his motionless boyfriend once more. 

Roger is still out cold, splayed out on the bed. His pants half slid down his thighs and his hair a mess. 

"Fuck." The people holding Brian back let go of him as soon as he stops kicking his legs out.

His throat hurts from yelling too much, which he can't even remember doing.

He pushes people to the side and falls to his knees by the bed. He mindlessly pulls Roger into his arms for his own comfort more than anything else. 

"I'm here." He holds the blond against his chest as he whispers. "It's okay I'm here now."

Brian didn't even notice the tears streaming down his face until his vision blurs. 

"I'm sorry." Roger is limp and heavy against him. He keeps stroking his messy hair back, but he only gets blood onto it. "I'm really sorry I didn't know-"

"Brian." Daisy snaps him out of his sobs. "The ambulance is coming. A-and the police.” She pointedly doesn’t look at Brad or Richard. “Is he still breathing?"

Brian nudges Rogers face back enough to feel his hot shallow breaths against his face. Brian has to support his neck to keep his head from falling back.

It’s not perfect, but it’s enough to nod at Daisy. “Breathing... It’s shaky. But he’s breathing.” 

She gives him a weak smile. 

“It’s going to be okay Brian.” 

~~~

“It’s going to be okay Brian.”

The first thing Roger notices when he regains consciousness is his boyfriends warm hand intertwined with his own.

The second thing Roger registers is the pounding headache that woke him up in the first place.

He suppresses a groan and lets the pain and nausea wash over him.

He takes a deep breath in order to stay calm. 

He knows he’s most likely in the hospital, with the bright white lights behind his closed eyelids and the overly sanitary smell. 

Though, he can’t remember how he got there.

“If I’d come in two minutes later.” Roger falls back into the conversation happening above his head. “They would have had their way with him.”

That’s definitely Brian, sitting directly beside Roger. His voice hoarse and emotional.

“Brian, you can’t blame yourself for anything that happened.” John says firmly, though Roger can tell he’s tired. Even with his eyes closed. 

“But Mr. Deacon-”

“No, seriously Brian. You’ll go down a dark spiral if you keep blaming yourself for something that never even happened.” 

Despite the fact that John is using his best scolding tone, the familiarity relaxes Roger. 

If he’s with his dads and Brian, it can’t be too bad, right? It’s just a headache and some nausea. 

He probably had a mild concussion of some sorts.

That would also explain why he can’t remember anything leading up to getting to the hospital.

“I should have gone with him when he asked me to come to the party. He’s just not used to partying alone anymore.” Brian sounds miserable. All Roger wants to do is to sit up and give him a hug. 

Sadly, he can’t even find the strength to squeeze Brians hand. 

“Don’t worry about that. Roger won’t be going anywhere for the next few months.” John snorts. 

“Really darling? Our kid has been roofied and you want him to get over the trauma by shielding him from the world?” Freddie scoffs. A rare moment of seriousness which always tends to spook Roger. “No. He needs to act normal and expose himself in order to overcome this.” 

“Since when are you a psychologist?” Roger imagines John must be raising his eyebrow. “Besides, the doctors said he probably won’t even remember what happened.”

Brian gulps. “Who’s going to tell him? And how do you tell such a thing?”

It takes all of Rogers energy to lift his eyelids up. 

The light seeping in worsens his headache by tenfold. He bites his lip and groans out in pain. 

“I think someone has finally decided to join us.” Through the small slits of his eyes, Roger sees Freddie come into view with a broad smile. “Hello darling.”

Roger feels like he hasn’t used his voice in weeks. 

“Hi pap.” He hoarsely squeaks out. Razor blades scraping at the walls of his throat.

Someone presses a glass to his lips. Roger gratefully gulps down the water. 

“There you go, Honey.” John is stroking his hair while he tips the glass back for him. “Take it slow.”

Roger feels water dribbling down his chin, but he doesn’t care. 

He’s warm and mushy, tucked up under the blanket, Freddie sitting at the foot of his bed with an encouraging smile, John standing by the head of the bed helping Roger drink.

And Brian, sitting on the bed next to Roger. Squeezing their hands together and lovingly kissing Rogers inner wrist.

“How are you feeling?” 

As soon as John puts down the glass of water, Roger glances sideways to take in Brians state- well as much as Roger can take in through his squinted blurry eyes.

He’s not wearing his glasses or lenses.

Brian looks exhausted, dark circles under his eyes. It’s obvious he’s been crying. Two streaks of tears are dried up on his cheeks.

“I’m okay.” 

Roger does what he can do best, he grins. Flashes both Brians and his parents his teeth. 

“I really am.” He whispers, because it’s true. He’s had worse headaches and his vision is only swimming because he isn’t wearing his glasses.

“You don’t have to be okay.” John looks just as tired as Brian, still stroking Rogers hair away from his face. The gesture he always uses to keep Roger calm ever since adopting him. 

“I don’t remember what happened.” Roger admits quietly. He wonders if it’s really that bad. 

He doesn’t feel too bad. 

When nobody replies, he continues to prompt. “What happened? Did anyone else get hurt?” 

John sighs. “The police is still investigating if there were any other victims.” 

“Victims of what?”

Freddie squeezes his foot and winks at him. “Let’s talk about that later, okay? You’re still recovering. It’s a lot to take in now.”

“Recovering from what?” His head begins to pound even harder because of the harsh lights and trying to concentrate on the conversation. “I feel fine.”

Brian smiles sadly at him. He leans forward to place a gentle kiss to the tip of Rogers cold nose.

“Trust your dads on this one.”

Rogers eyes flutter closed when Brians lips press against his own. 

It feels good, the soft touches despite the slight hesitation in Brians movement.

“Okay?”

“Hmmm...” Roger can’t quite get his eyes to open again.

Someone, probably Freddie snuggles him tightly under the blanket once more.

“Get some rest, dear.”

Roger feels sleep tug at his consciousness. Still he can feel Brian press a soft kiss to their intertwined fingers. 

“I’m here when you wake up, Rog.” Brian whispers lowly. “I’ll explain everything. I’m sorry.”

It’s confusing. Roger doesn’t know what he’s going on about, but the thought of having him here when he wakes up disoriented and in pain again is reassuring.

“Promise?” He asks quietly, already half asleep. 

“I promise Roger.” 

A soft kiss is pressed to his forehead. Warmth spreads from Rogers heart to his cheeks.

“Now listen to your dad and get some sleep.” 

Before sleep completely overtakes him, Roger manages to sigh out a heartfelt, “I love you guys.”

He doesn’t stay awake long enough to hear their replies, but from his past experiences he knows that John will stand over him and check his vitals all day to ensure his recovery, Freddie will keep him warm and comfortable under the blanket.

And Brian... Being the best boyfriend in the world, he’ll keep holding Rogers hand until he wakes up again. 

Whatever it is Roger has to deal with when he wakes up, it’s s problem for later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning:  
> \- mentions of sexual assault  
> \- non consensual drug use
> 
> OMg guYS THANK YOU FOR READING!!!! Let me know what you think and if you want more.  
> Remember guys and gals, never ever take a drink from someone else or keave your drink unattended. It happens to THOUSANDS of women and men. Almost 50/50 actually. Party safe.
> 
> PLEASE LEAVE A COMMENT OMG PLEASE I’m so weak for comments you don’t even know 
> 
> Also also also follow my Ask Rogerina blog RogerinaT  
> You can ask Rogerina anything there honestly


	6. You and I, how I got adopted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The story of Rogers adoption.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HOW LONG HAS IT BEEN??  
> TRIGGER WARNING CHILD ABUSE!!!!!!! 
> 
> In the midst of her exams snd assignments and internship, her other cliffhanger, asks and comments she wanted to give you what she promised- THIS. You people are the best. Have fun reading. 
> 
> TILLY BABY GAL ENJOY THIS

Most of the time, when Roger wakes up he's alone.

The room as always is dark. 

There's hardly a difference between keeping his eyes shut or staring into the pitch black void. 

Instead of getting up, he waits and listens. Quietly hiding under the thin blanket on top of the worn mattress on the living room floor.

He tries to make out footsteps or voices from his mothers bedroom or the hallway. Knowing that if she has visitors he shouldn't bother her.

Roger is often anxious. Curling up on himself and rocking to find comfort. 

Sometimes the blacked out windows rattle with angry screams and violent outbursts coming from his mothers bedroom. Or if an angry stranger marches into the kitchen and throws with glass and plates. Deliberately clacking pans together to show their displeasure. 

Or other times his mother acts unpredictable. 

Giggling at everything, accidentally throwing furniture over, but she doesn't get angry. She's just being silly. Her eyes black and blown wide as she stumbles around in the apartment.

Roger always keeps himself quiet when she gets like that- he always tries to go unnoticed. Else she'll talk gibberish to him. Or force him to cook her something- do games that aren't meant for five year olds.

If he's unlucky, she lashes out on him, with words he doesn't really understand. But he knows he's upset her by the way she grips his arms and shakes him until his head pounds. 

Seeing his mother angry, or acting strangely are both equally horrid. 

But Roger finds it the most terrifying when he wakes up all alone and the flat is deadly silent.

He is not allowed in her room. But if he doesn't hear a single peep from her in days he tentatively knocks on the door to check if she's still there.

When she wakes up and punishes him for disturbing her, Roger takes the violence. He's just glad nothing has happened to her. That she's not gone. 

The only person his life resolves around. 

But sometimes- she doesn't wake up. Doesn't tell him to fuck off or leave her alone, while an unknown man forces Roger back into the living room. 

Sometimes, Roger has to anxiously wait for days. Excruciatingly long hours to hear from his mum again. 

~~~

Freddie holds the door open. 

"And this is your new room."

He tries to sound sincerely excited, but his smile becomes harder to hold with every passing second. 

Rogers eyes nervously dart around the room from where he stiffly stays put in the doorway. His lips pressed into a thin line. 

Freddie guides the small boy to move in by pushing his tense shoulder. 

"Come inside darling, it's all yours."

Even when Roger is inside, he won't drop his little backpack to snuffle around in the room John and Freddie had thoughtfully furnished for him. 

There's a mountain of stuffed animals, a huge bookcase and a bed in the form of a race-car.

But Roger doesn't seem excited. His eyes don't lit up, he doesn't smile. 

He just looks worried, and distraught. 

"What do you think?" Freddie prompts with an encouraging smile. 

Rogers eyes nervously flicker up to Freddie's, and instantly he drops his gaze to the floor again.

He just stands there. Small body trembling in the middle of his new clean room. 

Freddie's skin crawls at the sight. Not for the first time he wonders what has happened to Roger. Why he never smiles, doesn't talk, won't get excited. 

"Let me grab your bag darling, you've been carrying it around all day." Freddie simply suggests, guiding Roger out of the straps. Only now noticing it's light and possibly empty. 

He drops the bag to the floor with a thud. 

What now? 

Freddie stands in the middle of the room, awkwardly looking down at Roger.

He wishes John was here to help him. He would have known what to do.

But John needed to be at work. And Freddie is a father now too. He needs to be able to handle this on his own. 

"Ehm..." Freddie clears his throat, before an idea jumps into his mind.

He crouches down to crawl over to the heap of stuffed animals he had personally picked out for Roger at the toy-store.

"Here!" 

Freddie holds the little fluffy Tiger in front of his face, crawling over to Roger in an attempt to provoke a reaction out of him.

"I'm your new buddy, Mr Tiger. Do you like your new room?"

Holding his breath, Freddie anxiously waits for a reaction- that doesn't come. 

He slowly lowers the little tiger to look at his new son.

The boys lip is wobbling dangerously. Tears threatening to spill over the brim of his eyes. 

He won't meet Freddie's eyes again. Not even when the man ducks down enough to stare up at Rogers face. 

"Ah shi- It's okay." 

Freddie's voice softens, and without a second thought his arms wrap around the little boys back. 

It's an overwhelming change. Coming from the adoption center to a grand new home. Full of his own things and without all those other kids.

"You're okay darling."

Roger sniffs. His eyes silently leaking tears on Freddie's sweater as the blond let's his rigid body be held by his new father. 

Freddie coos at him. Rubbing Rogers back to get him to calm down. To comfort him through his silent battle. 

"Dad and I will look after you." He promises, while letting Roger cry on his shoulder. 

"It's all going to be okay."

Even though Freddie's thighs begin to burn, he continues to crouch down for Roger. Letting the blond boy quietly cry, little hands clutching Freddie's sweater. 

At least he doesn't push Freddie away. Which is a small victory.

Roger hiccups. His chest heaving with every breath. 

"Oh darling, don't be upset." Freddie whispers sadly. 

He can't just sit there and listen to this. Tears prickling in his own eyes at feeling Roger tremble against him. 

"Come on, dear."

Freddie secures Roger in his arms, before getting to his feet. Instinctively Rogers legs wrap around his waist and cling onto him.

"You know what I do when I feel upset?"

Freddie continues to stroke Rogers hair while he makes his way into the hallway. Towards the bathroom.

To his utter surprise, he feels Roger shake his head. 

It's not really a word, but he's communicating. Which is a huge step into the right direction.

"I take a bath. With bubbles." 

When he reaches the bathroom, he puts Roger down on the edge of the bath. He wastes no time filling the tub with lukewarm water.

Roger watches him prepare the bath with teary curious eyes. Hands still clutching Freddie's sweater. 

Freddie unscrews the caps of two bubble bath bottles. "Which one do you like more?" He asks softly, offering the two options by holding it out to Rogers nose.

Hesitantly, Roger cranes his neck to sniff at the two bottles. 

"Honey or lavender? Whichever you prefer darling. They both have bubbles." 

One small finger points at the lavender oil bubbles. Rogers big eyes focused on Freddie's face to make sure he's not chosen the wrong one. 

"That's a great choice, darling." Freddie praises him, while chucking the liquid into the warm water. "Good job."

He ruffles Rogers hair as his cheeks turn pink from the praise. 

"You gonna undress so we can get you cleaned up? I can grab you some toys to play in the water." 

Roger doesn't need to be told twice. He instantly starts stripping down to his underwear. Bundling his clothes up into a messy heap.

Freddie takes them from him, before lifting Roger by his waist into the deep tub with a grunt. 

"Tell me if it's too hot."

Little Roger gasps when he breaks the waters surface. Instantly sitting down into the warm bath. 

He tries to keep still and not splash too much while Freddie rubs his face clean from tears and snot with a washcloth. 

Roger watches the bubbles form with wide interested eyes. 

It took a few minutes of Freddie gently caressing his face and washing his dirty hair, but eventually Roger can't help but reach out and squish the bubbles between his fingers experimentally. 

Full of surprise, the bubbles burst when he touches them. A hesitant smile tugs at the corner of his lips. 

"You should play with them- here." 

Freddie scoops up a handful of bubbles and blows them into Rogers face. 

Rogers face scrunches up in confusion- taking a second to realize nothing serious has happened. 

After he shakes his face clean- he observes Freddie carefully, and when he notices the older man is looking at him with a broad smile instead of being upset- Roger bursts out in giggles.

"You like that?"

Roger nods, still smiling. 

So Freddie does it again. But this time he cups Rogers hands in his own and guides the blond to do the same attack back.

Roger is grinning too much to sufficiently blow the bubbles into Freddie's direction. 

But he tries, enthusiastically. His entire body shaking with his giggles.

Freddie silently sighs in relief. For the time being he got to distract Roger from the heavy circumstances. And by the grace of God got a smile out of the boy.

"Okay, let me take off my sweater before you completely drench it with water." Freddie laughs. "Then I'll show you how to really splash someone with water."

For the next hour, Roger is shrieking and happily playing with his new papa in the bathroom. 

~~~

Sometimes, Rogers mother forgets to feed him. 

Hunger is the worst thing Roger can feel.

It only takes a few hours for his tummy to grumble angrily for some food. He'll feel hollow and a bit tired.

When that occurs, he just curls up on his mattress. No energy to do much else but wait.

But when the headache sets in, the hunger becomes nearly unbearable. His vision blurs and his head swims.

He forgets what's up and what's down. The room is spinning and his ears ring. 

"Mommy." He calls. Tears streaming down his pale face. He can't gather the energy to stand up and look for her. "Mommy please."

Sometimes, there's no reply.

~~~

The first few days John likes to just observe Roger.

How the kid hesitates before he eats. How he looks caught in the act when he tries to pet one of the cats, but one of his dads enters the room. He doesn't touch his toys, unless specifically given to him. He won't prompt to do anything if he isn't pushed or asked. 

Having a kid in the house is a weird change. But Roger makes for a fascinating and lovable child.

"Morning kiddo." 

John yawns. Not turning the lights of the bedroom on as he shuffles over to Rogers bed.

Only to find the kid wide awake, staring up at him with uncertain eyes.

John smiles sadly. Sinking down to lean against the bed. 

"Hi."

Roger in return gives a hesitant smile. Rolling to his side so he can have a better look at John. 

Both their hair is a mushy mess and wearing their pajamas, it's a Sunday. Barely 8 am.

John rubs a finger over Rogers chubby cheek. Seeing the positive weight gain in only a few weeks. He smiles back at his new kid, who eagerly leans into the touch.

"Were you awake for a long time?" John asks quietly. Not really expecting an answer, but still trying.

Roger doesn't say anything. Looking up at his father unblinkingly. 

"It's fine if you were, but don't wait for us to wake you up. If you need Daddy or Papa you can come to our room, wake us up." John reminds Roger. He hates the idea of Roger wasting hours being bored and too scared to get out of bed to play. "You remember where our room is?"

Roger nods. Face half hidden by the pillow. 

"Good." John praises. Leaning down to kiss Rogers soft forehead. "Let's go downstairs and make Papa some breakfast in bed."

Roger smiles at the touch, before he pushes the blankets off his body enthusiastically.

Before he goes, he sits on the edge of the bed and John helps him roll his feet into soft woolen socks.

"You're all set. Race you down the stairs?"

He instantly regrets the suggestion. 

Roger is quite slippery on his socked feet. Sliding across the hardwood floor with a huge grin on his face as he sprints out of his room into the hallway. 

He looks like he's about to fall over a couple of times, nut he catches himself on the door or railing before anything goes wrong or John gets a heart attack.

"I'm an idiot." 

He chuckles at himself. Learning every day.

Just as he's about to leave the room and follow Roger down, because he's given him a fair head-start- a package of Snickers on the floor catches his eye. 

With a low groan, John falls to his knees and pushes the door away from the wall.

To his surprise he finds a whole collection of snickers, Twix, a packages of crackers, two candy wraps and a bottle of water. The usual snacks John and Freddie give Roger.

John feels his heart beat in his throat. 

Roger is hoarding food behind his door. 

The idea makes him sick. Why does a child have the need to for a secret supply of food.

"Fuck."

John swallows past the lump in his throat. 

His hands curling into fists. 

But he doesn't get rid of Rogers supplies. Doesn't confront him or make him explain. 

If this is what Roger needs in order to transfer into his new way of life, so be it.

But that day, John makes his son the biggest breakfast he's ever seen. And he promises himself Roger won't ever have to use his secret supply of food in his life.

In no time, Roger gains a healthy amount of weight. After meals John keeps offering more, to the point where Roger enthusiastically shakes his head. 

~~~

It's strange.

Roger knows there's a whole world outside of his mothers living room. The television keeps telling so.

But he can't quite tell.

Sometimes a curious part of him wants to see what's outside of the blacked out windows. His mother doesn't allow him to see what's on the other side.

It's unfair. She gets to walk out the door whenever she wants. 

Roger is stuck inside. Staring at the blurry television or plain ceiling.

It's dark. Always dark.

No sunshine. There's no warmth or an indication what time of the day it is. 

Roger lives in a constant cloak of darkness. 

He wonders. His curious mind always wiring to know what is out there. Directly behind the walls of his home. 

He's risked it a few times. Grabbing one of the grown ups kitchen chairs. Pushing it against the wall and climbing it to get to the window. 

Just as he's started scraping the layer of black paint off with his finger nail, a low voice from behind freezes him in place. 

Catching in in the act.

"Should he be doing that?" An unknown man asks.

Rogers heart thunders against his ribcage. He knows he's in trouble when his mothers rapid footsteps follow and he is snatched off the chair. 

"No." 

~~~

"You okay Rog?" 

John stands in the garden. It's the first day in April that it's warm enough to sit outside.

He also realized it's the first time Roger has ever seen their garden. A huge field of grass, some play pens for the cats and a lounge corner to sunbathe.

"Darling?"

John has a red ball under his arm. Waiting impatiently for Roger to stop squinting at the sun as he steps outside of the house.

Big blue eyes frown in Johns general direction. Not quite catching the older mans gaze.

"Are you gonna continue to stand in the doorway?" John chuckles- but it fades when Roger hesitantly nods. And takes a step back inside the house.

His hair is pulled back into a small knot. He's only wearing a pair of denim overalls and socks over his feet. They just had a nice lunch and mutually agreed on playing outside while Freddie did the dishes.

Roger should be comfortable. But he isn't.

It worries John sometimes. How much he has to push Roger into doing new things, fun things. 

"But don't you wanna play with Daddy?" 

Roger nods. Fingers nervously pulling on the fabric of his shirt underneath his overalls. He's half leaning against the door post. His foot dangling to take the first step into the garden.

"Mm..."

A grin spreads over Johns face. The little kid has him wrapped around his finger.

"Then come outside. We can't throw the ball inside the house, Honey. We would knock over one of your Papas ugly vases over." 

John gets ready to throw the ball, squatting a bit and pretending he's about to take a shot in Rogers direction in an attempt to get Roger to take a step over the threshold onto the grass. 

But Roger uneasily glances back up at the sun. His forehead wrinkled with a serious frown. Instead of stepping outside, he cringes and does another step back. 

John sighs. Putting the ball down on the grass, before he marches over to Roger with a soft smile.

"Okay, I don't know what's scaring you Rog, but I promise, if you come outside-" 

"Wooooooosh!" 

Out of the blue Freddie comes sprinting out of the house and grabs a hold of Roger. Taking him outside of the house under his arm, the same way John has been holding the ball previously. 

Scooped under Freddie's arm, Roger let's out a loud shriek. Kicking his legs out and giggling as  his papa carries him around the garden. 

"Be careful!" John calls, watching Freddie run in circles without really looking where he's going. Too caught up in chuckling because Roger is laughing too. 

"What for? If we fall we-"

It's the one second of distraction that takes for Freddie to stumble over his slippers and trip over his own feet.

He holds onto Roger until he lands on the ground, luckily his shoulder and the grass soften the blow.

"Oh shi- I mean... Fudge." Freddie chuckles. Making sure he doesn't roll on top of his son. 

John rushes over to where Freddie and Roger had fallen on the grass. Both of them still giggling like crazy.

Rogers hair had come undone and half covers his face. But he is flushed with laughter, one arm wrapping around Freddie's thumb for comfort. 

Freddie sighs happily when John comes over, hands in his hips and a raised eyebrow. Blocking the sun for Roger to actually make out his unamused facial expression. 

"I see two silly boys laying on the dirty grass." 

For just a second, Rogers laughter falters and his face falls. Worried he's done something wrong. 

"You're not in trouble Darling." Freddie promises before the emotion can escalate. 

He softly kisses Rogers forehead, before giving John a warning glance as a reminder to be careful with his sarcasm. "Daddy is gonna join us on the grass. So we can enjoy the sun."

"I thought we were gonna play ball." John half heartedly protests, but he's already lowering himself to the floor to lay out next to Roger. So Roger can be between his dads. 

The sun is hot on his face and the grass a soft pillow to lay on. He settles down sideways so he can look at both Freddie and Roger, gently stroking the locks of hair away from Rogers face. 

"We have all afternoon. We can play later, can't we Rog?" Freddie asks the kid enthusiastically. 

But Roger hides his face from the sun in Johns shoulder as he scoots closer to his papa. Still holding onto Freddie's hand like a lifeline. 

With a sigh, Freddie kisses the top of his head. Before laying back with one hand behind his head. 

"Yeah, I'm not a huge fan of sports either." 

~~~

There's not a lot that Roger knows of. He hasn't seen much of the world. Never experienced any of it. 

He is limited to the four walls of his living room. 

Just a handful of things that keep his life busy, like hunger, exhaustion and his mother. 

But not much else besides that .

The television set is his most prominent source of entertainment when his mother is busy. 

But the figures on the screen are vague. He has to squint and concentrate very well in order to make out what's being portrayed on the small square. Which is often an impossible task if he's hungry, or tired.

Roger lays around, on his mattress. 

He tries to block out disturbing noises coming from his mothers room. Just staring up at the ceiling. Hoping she'll come out without looking too silly, without her eyes blown wide with insanity.

There are rare moments, where his mommies warm arms embrace him and she whispers loving words into his ear. 

She has the kindest smile, and no artificial joy in her eyes.

She's the best story teller. Knows the most adventurous tales and the funniest jokes.

If only those moments weren't so rare. If only they lasted long enough for her to pull herself together and take Roger outside.

Outside he knows from the television. Portrayed with mountains and fields of green grass.

He can vaguely remember perhaps once touching it. When he was even younger. He remembers that the grass tickles the soles if his feet.

But he can't be sure anymore. 

He doesn't know when the last time was his mother took him outside. Or that she embraced him. 

~~~

"He's not making any progress."

Freddie and John had been anxiously expecting this conversation from Rogers tutor. But it still doesn't feel good.

"I'm sorry to tell you, but Roger has very serious development problems."

It's their kid. It's not their fault that makes them defensive. 

John has his arm crossed and raises an eyebrow. "Isn't that too soon to say?"

The tutor sighs, his shoulders sag with the force. He looks defeated. 

"He won't speak. Not even a single word. The most I've gotten out of his is a frustrated grumble." 

"What else is there to be expected from a child who's lacked intellectual stimulation or attention their entire life?" Freddie asks defensively. Mimicking Johns body language. "I know he's intelligent. He can solve puzzles, draw, communicate in the most creative ways, I can just see him thinking every second of the day." 

They look over the tutors shoulder, where Roger is obliviously watching television on the couch. Sucking on a lollipop he earned for taking an extra hour of class.

Roger does truly hate being schooled. It's odd, because usually the kid is meek and easy going.

But whenever he sees his tutor walk through the front door, he becomes stubborn and his face is set in a frustrated frown. 

He doesn't cooperate with the games and puzzles the tutor takes with him. He wouls glance down at the table, with memory cards or whatever other game. He would blankly stare, before begging his tutor to stop with a pleading look.

No amount of praise or bribery gets Roger to cooperate with his teacher.

Roger ends and sighing, because he doesn't understand the games. Or simply refuses to participate. 

It's frustrating for his fathers, because they know Roger is a smart kid. Who simply has no idea how to communicate his struggles. 

"Mr Deacon, and eh..."

"Also Mr Deacon." Freddie fills in sharply. 

John wraps an arm around his waist and squeezes his hip. Promising him quietly that it's okay.

Freddie leans into the touch, but his body stays rigidly alert while they watch the tutor squirm at seeing two men show such affection in front of him. 

"Right." The man continues, averting his eyes. "I have been a private tutor for the past three decades, but your child is in no place to learn anything. He needs a brain scan or a test to see where his development has stopped." 

Instantly John sees red with anger. But he doesn't miss the way Freddie's hands bawl up into fists dangerously. Tensing up against him. 

The situation is just a moment away from escalating, while there's a five year old in the room. 

So, instead of lashing out, John takes a deep breath and pushes himself away from Freddie.

"I'm only keeping it real for you two. That's what all new parents need." 

Keeping his cool, John guides the man out of the door. Handing him his suitcase from the floor and opening the door for him.

"Thank you for the suggestion. But we're sure nothing that serious is going on with Rog." John says dryly. Waiting for the man to shuffle out of their house into the cold. 

"If you have your kids best interest at heart, find out what's wrong with him." 

John slams the door closed. He takes two steps back, before falling into Freddie's open arms.

They quietly hold one another for a moment. Actually not quite sure what to do from that moment on. 

They know that Roger is not stupid. But if they want him to go to school starting next school year, or start playing with other kids, he needs to be able to speak. 

One thing is sure though, that's the last time they let that private tutor through their front door. 

~~~

Most of the time, Roger can safe himself.

He hoards enough food under the couch to live when his mother doesn't regularly supplies food. 

Perhaps sometimes he's bored, but with the radio channel on the television he can hum along to music and keep himself entertained. 

He can use the toilet by himself, clean himself behind the ears and wash his clothes in the sink if they begin to smell too dirty. 

But it's when his nose is stuffed, his eyes become watery and his throat sore, that he wishes his mommy would notice. Or care.

There's been times he'd thought he would die. Completely sweating enough to soak through the fabric of his blanket. Shivering violently as fever leaves him too weak to move. 

Too exhausted to move. 

All he could do was cry. Muffled by his pillow so his sobs wouldn't anger his mother or her guests. 

And hope the illness would pass before it becomes fatal.

~~~

"How warm is he now?"

John sighs and shows Freddie the thermostat. "103. If it gets any higher we should see a doctor." 

Roger whimpers pathetically. His arms tightening around Freddie's neck in protest. 

"I know, Dear. It sucks." Freddie shushes him, gently swaying Roger in his arms in an attempt to rock him back to sleep. "Papa got you."

Roger is only half awake. His vision spinning and face flushed with a high fever. He can't quite tell what's up or what's down. 

Not quite aware where he is or what's going on. Just barely recognizing his fathers as they try to lower his fever or get him to sleep it off.

"Mhmhm." Roger grumbles weakly. His cheek rubbing against Freddie's cool chest. 

John puts a hand on Rogers scorching forehead, gently petting the sweaty blond hair back to calm him down. 

"He doesn't want you to let go." He whispers. Kissing the crown of Rogers head. "Poor thing is ailing."

Rogers feet dangle lazily by Freddie's sides. His cheek pressed against his papa's soft sweater. Blurry hooded eyes making sure John isn't going anywhere either.

They're all standing in Rogers bedroom. Nearing 4 AM. 

"I don't think I can go to work tomorrow. I can't leave you alone with him in good conscience." Freddie whispers over Rogers head. Rubbing a hand up and down the boys back as raw coughs rip through his shaking body. 

John kisses Freddie's cheek. "I don't want you to feel obligated to stay, but I could use an extra pair of hands." 

He glances back down at Roger. Completely weak with fever and exhaustion. He hasn't properly slept for over two days from the slowly building sickness. 

Tonight it was just luck that John has gone to the toilet at midnight, only to find Roger stumbling down the hallway. Hallucinating and sweating with fever.

John had scooped him up and decided that he was suffering from more than a minor cold, as he and Freddie had anticipated before.

"You little trouble maker. We'll take care of you until you feel better." 

He slips a cool hand under Rogers shirt and splays it over the boys scorching back. 

"Ahh." Roger sighs. His body slumping against Freddie's in relief. 

"That's nice, isn't it darling?" Freddie chuckles lowly. Kissing Rogers warm forehead. "Keep doing that, Deacky." 

John rubs lazy circles with his hand on Rogers back. Trying to cool him down enough to at least fall asleep.

"I'll do this all night if I have to." He promises Roger. But he's barely present enough to blink his eyes at his father to show he'a understood. 

Freddie nods in agreement. Rocking Roger in his arms more insistently to get him to fall asleep.

It's not the first time Roger falls ill. Over time John and Freddie find out he's got a rather weak immune system and bacteria easily get him sick. 

Sometimes multiple times in a month. 

But every time, Freddie and John are there to take care of their kid. They give him all the care and time he need. 

They don't leave his side until he feels better. 

~~~

"Rog. Wake up."

He gets physically dragged out of bed before can shake the exhaustion off. 

"Come on, baby." 

Roger whimpers. His mother pulling him to the couch insistently in her high pitched voice.

Her words come out sluggish. She stumbles as she walks.

Roger knows not to hinder her when she's like this, so he does what she orders him to. His entire body swaying with exhaustion as he tries to stand upright.

"We're gonna play a game."

She's grinning and her eyes are blown wide with darkness. 

Roger hates it when she looks down on him predatorily. He squirms under her gaze.

All he wants to do is go back to sleep.

"Hide and seek. I hide, you seek."

"But mommy-"

She doesn't let him finish. Her entire body trembling as she wobbly sprints down the hallway. Giggling maniacally as she goes.

"Don't look!" 

Roger fidgets. Covering his face with his hands, even though he couldn't really see anything through his sleepy haze anyway. 

He also can't quite count yet. So he waits until his mothers footsteps fade and he knows she's hidden. 

It's hard to find his way through the house with sleep tugging at his consciousness. His feet drag over the floor as he quietly looks for his mother.

He never really wins when they play games. 

After an undetermined time of looking fir her, it could have been hours. Or no less then five minutes, he finds her fast asleep in the closet next to her bedroom door. Containing clean duvets they never really use.

"Mommy." Roger tries to shake her awake, but she won't budge.

Her eyes roll behind her lids as she dozes. Half sitting, half curled up in the closet.

Roger hates it. How skinny and fragile she is. He reaches out to wrap his arms around her. He climbs onto her lap and tucks his head between her neck and collarbone. 

The closet door closes behind him, but he doesn't care.

He takes every opportunity he gets to be with his mother in rare quietness. 

~~~

John knows he and Freddie are qualified to be fathers.

They have gone through hell and back to prepare for the new arrival into their home.

Freddie painted the new bedroom, John prepared all the official documents, they changed their work schedule and saved a lot of money.

All in order to get a good report on their family profile by the social worker. 

And as they had hoped, the social worker was impressed. 

They did pretty amazing on the tests. Receiving high scores on providing a good, safe and loving home for a child. 

So it hadn't taken a long time before they had gotten a few meetings with children in desperate need of a new family.

"Roger? I didn't see you there." 

John smiles when the little boy tugs on his pants. Eyes wide as he owlishly blinks up at John.

"What do you want, darling?"

It's been two whole months now since Roger has officially moved into his new home. With only a small backpack, with hardly any belongings and too short of a record without much information about his family. 

But Roger hasn't said a single word to either John or Freddie.

"Up?" 

Roger nods sheepishly. His arms reaching out to get picked up and held.

John wonders what he's doing wrong as a father. It's unusual for children to be as passive as Roger. Who, if it weren't for Freddie or John prompting him, would sit in a warm corner all day. Not doing anything.

Not saying a word.

It's not even that Roger is shy per se. The second John picks him up and balances the tiny boy on his hip, the blond lays his head on Johns shoulder and lazily sucks on his thumb while watching John prepare lunch.

He's comfortable around John and Freddie. Instantly he became attached to them, craving the attention he's never gotten before.

But for some reason, Roger just won't speak. Won't play or curiously discover if he isn't asked to do so. 

"I'm making us some cheese on toast for lunch. Papa is still at work. So it's just you and I."

John likes to pretend that everything is okay. 

He won't do Roger any good by letting him know something is seriously wrong with his lack of speaking. 

"I know you like most foods, so I bet you like this too." He tends to talk to Roger, in an attempt to prompt him into saying something back. Not give up on him. "It's my favorite." 

He's wondered if maybe Roger suffers from a development disorder. Perhaps because of his upbringing. Or something else. 

The words of the tutor hunt John and Freddie. It makes him wonder... 

John puts the cheese on the toast with one hand, because the other keeps Roger securely seated on his hip. He breaks off a piece of cheese and offers it to the half dozing blond on his shoulder.

"Can you say 'Cheese' Rog?"

John doesn't have to hold his breath. The kid instantly shakes his head and hides his face into Johns neck to avoid further confrontation.

It breaks Johns heart. Completely clueless as to how to get Roger to talk. 

Pushing the boy too much is not a wise option. John and Freddie are still working very hard on earning his trust. Showering him with unconditional love. 

John rubs his small back in reassurance. "Don't worry, sweetheart. You don't have to say anything you don't wanna."

He eats the piece of cheese himself, before closing the toaster to heat their bread and melt the toast.

"Ten minutes and we get some food." 

When the bread is getting made, John wraps his other arm around Roger, he begins to bounce the quiet blond, swaying to the soft jazz music through the kitchen. Humming soothingly into Rogers ear.

After only half a song, Rogers body relaxes against Johns and he stops sucking his thumb to instead wrap his tiny arms around Johns neck.

John gives him two more weeks, before he will find Roger professional help for his speech impediment.

~~~

Panic, Roger knows, is an emotion that triggers a pattern of rigged breathing, cold shivers down his spine and overall tension over his body. 

Panic and all its hot flashes and icy pain- is the worst feeling in the world.

"What the fuck- Get away from that shit!" 

Roger would do anything to stop his heart beat from raising any further. It feels like it's trying to escape out of his ribcage as the man steps closer into Rogers personal space. 

He towers over Roger. A giant talking to a mouse. Big fearful eyes scan the man down. Backed up against the kitchens wall, Roger can't escape. 

"Are you a fucking idiot?! That's the grownups table. How fucking dare you?" 

Roger whimpers when the man grabs a hold of him and squeezes him tightly. It hurts. The blood stops flowering from where the man is gripping his arms. Feet dangling off the floor

He knows he's not allowed to touch his mothers stuff. He didn't know that the white powder, carelessly left on the table. But it wasn't his to look at.

He had been just a moment away from snatching a handful of said powder. 

Curiosity killed the cat. 

"That's not yours to touch! You can't even fucking look at it." The man rages. Rogers ears ring from the echo. "Do you understand?!" 

Roger nods immediately. Even though he doesn't understand. 

The white powder didn't seem too bad. Almost like the powdered sugar from the television kitchen station. 

He would agree to anything for the man to let go of him. His face entirely too close to Rogers. Making the blond cross eyed in order to look him in the eye. 

"Use your fucking words. You're just as incompetent as your fuckin mother-" 

Roger tries to kick out or wriggle away. But the man is too strong. Too angry to let Roger go.

Something cracks when the man squeezes his arms harder. Making Rogers eyes widen in terrifying shock- 

"Don't touch him, he's just a kid!" 

Tears are streaming down Rogers eyes when his mother comes stumbling out her bedroom. Only wearing a white robe over her thin frame.

But she immediately marches over to the boys. Though she can barely hold herself up. Her eyes droopy and dark. 

"Stop it. What are you doing?" 

"If he's just a kid why do you allow him around drugs? Fucking nitwit nearly cost me thousands." The man scoffs. Pressing Roger hard against the wall behind him. Causing the boy to helplessly whimper. 

"Please. Don't hurt him." His mother bites her lip nervously as she pulls on the mans arm. 

"He needs to learn a lesson- so do you."

The pain in his arms is unbearable. His fingers tingle from the lack of blood flowing to them. 

But it becomes worse when the man pulls Roger back from the wall, before pushing him back against it. His head bumping against the white tile hard. 

"Don't do this." His mother begs the man. Desperately tugging at his arm to get him to let go of Roger.

Roger, who instead of screaming and kicking, motionlessly sets his brain offline and allows himself to be hurt. 

"Please, he's my son. Don't."

But the man doesn't want to hear it. He shrugs Rogers mother off and continues to angrily bang Roger against the wall.

"James don't. You're hurting him." 

"Please stop."

“He’s only a kid! He can’t help himself!” 

The room begins to spin. Roger sees black spots and stars swim in his vision. 

The last thing Roger hears are his mothers heart wrenching sobs coming from the hallway, before the bedroom door is slammed shut. 

"Mommy?" He whimpers, but it falls to deaf ears. 

She couldn't bear seeing him like that. 

~~~

It's a parents worst nightmare. 

"Roger!"

John feels cold sweat break out on his forehead. 

He has no idea how he is going to fix this. Dropping to his knees and scanning the moving crowds of people for a mop of blond hair.

"Rog!" 

He desperately cries out. His heart beating out of his chest.

They're in the middle of Oxford street, the heart of London on a warm Saturday afternoon. 

It's the worst place to lose a child. 

"Sir, are you okay?" 

A woman grabs a hold of his shoulder and John almost jumps. His throat too dry as he speaks up- lip trembling dangerously. "My kid. I don't know where he- I was just tying my shoe lace. I let go of his hand for one second and there was a crowd of people and and- I don't know where he is now. He was just here. Three minutes ago. I don't know- I can't see him anymore."

Her eyes widen, but she tries to stay calm for his sake. Nodding along with Johns panicked rambling. 

"Sir, you need to calm down-"

John runs a hand through his hair. Beginning to hyperventilate as more and more people pass by him on the street. Pushing his shoulder and carelessly bumping into him.

How they could easily trample over a little quiet boy as Roger.

"You don't understand." John can’t look her in the eye. Frantically checking the crowds while not wanting to move away from his spot either. "He doesn't talk. He's mute."

The woman blinks. Nodding again. 

"We will continue to look for him and call the police right away- what does he look like?"

John bends down again. Trying to scan the masses of legs for his little boy. 

"He's five. Got long blond hair, blue eyes. He's wearing a green shirt and jeans." 

He sees nothing but a mess of people. Business men in suits, young couples with strollers, teenagers with skateboards.

Not Roger.

John and the woman contact the police after another five more minutes of useless searching. 

She suggests to look further away from the spot where John has lost Roger. To see if Roger is further down the road.

John can imagine his tiny body getting dragged along with a swarm of people. But neither he or the woman know in which direction Roger could have gone. So they take a guess. 

She goes to the left, checking the floor snd shops to make sure Roger didn’t run inside dir shelter. Calling his name loud and clearly. 

John stays at the spot he’s lost Roger. Maybe the blond had remembered where he’s been lost and will return there. John can’t rush leaving and miss Roger by a few steps. 

But it's to no use. 

The police is on their way.

People give John pitying or irritated looks as he stands in the middle of Oxford Street. Opposite a crossroad and a McDonalds. 

He doesn't care that they stare. He just needs to find Roger.

How is he ever going to explain this to Freddie? 

With every passing second Johns hands grow sweatier. His shirt is soaked and his eyes are twitching with stress. Frustrating tears are threatening to shed.

He's an awful parent. He could pull his hair out in his terrified rage. 

What will child services say when they find out John lost Roger on their first day out to the mall? 

They would take him away without a second guess. That’s for sure. 

All he wanted was to buy Roger something nice, which he could pick out for himself, after the boy had completed his homework and wrote out his own name with gentle prodding and help from a new tutor. 

Now, John wishes he would have held onto the kids hand. Wouldn't have leaned down to tie his stupid shoelaces for Roger to be snatched away by the time John stood back up again. 

Johns vision swims with frustrated tears. His back hurts from bending down so much to see if Roger is somewhere between the swarm of long black clad legs. 

He feels his heart clench at the dreadful idea of Roger- 

"Daddy!" 

Out of nowhere, Roger leaps out of the crowd and flings himself at John.

"Rog- Oh my God. Roger I-"

Two arms wrap around Johns neck tightly- practically chocking him. The tall man can't help but return the gesture. Pressing Roger impossibly tight against his chest in shock. 

"Daddy, don't go. Please." Roger sobs. His entire body heaving with the force.

It breaks Johns heart. His tears disappearing in Rogers hair as he sways his kid protectively. Trying to calm both of them down.

"Hey-hey Rog, I'm here." He kisses the crown of his head as relief surges through the both of them. "I'm here."

Johns shirt becomes damp from Rogers tears and snot. The boy still in the midst of a panic attack. 

His entire body clamps around John desperately. His voice raspy and high pitched as he continues to mindlessly ramble. 

"Don't leave. Please daddy." 

John straightens his back while he rubs Rogers back with his flat hand. Trying to get the boy to breathe normally. 

"I won't leave Rog." He promises through his own guilty tears. Bouncing Roger in his arms. "I won't let go of you."

Roger nuzzles closer to his father. His chest rising and falling fast with hyperventilating breathes.

John combs his hair back, holds him close until the woman returns with the cops behind her.

John barely has the breath to explain himself to them. Too busy comforting his crying and clinging son in his arms.

The police understand, the woman gives Rogers back a soft pat before she leaves. Wishing them good luck.

John thanks her, but he doesn’t have eyes for anything but hid still crying son clinging to him fearfully. 

"Let's go home, yeah?" John has yet to stop bouncing Rogers shaking body as he stands on the sidewalk. "We deserve some rest after this day. We can buy your toy online. Let's just go back home."

Roger is freely sniffling and drooling over Johns neck. His tiny hands squeeze around Johns neck to get the message across he won't be letting go any time soon.

"Okay. Home." 

John doesn't mind. He eagerly holds onto his slowly calming child. Comforting him the long walk back to their house.

He's just glad Roger stays still, and isn't too heavy. 

The relief sends enough adrenaline through John that he makes it home in record time and takes a shower together with Roger. Just because the boy refuses to let John out of his sight. 

It doesn't even occur to John today was the first time he's heard Rogers voice, not until Freddie comes home to find the two of them setting the table for dinner. Roger still seated on Johns hip and quietly explaining in a raspy voice why exactly Freddie needed the yellow butterfly plate, not the red one.

"Papa likes yellow cause the it's color of the flowers in garden. We planted together on Wednesday! He picked the color"

John kisses his temple. "So you think he also wants a yellow plate?"

"Yes! Papa loves yellow sooo muchies."

Freddie's jaw drops to the floor as he watches the scene in front of him. Only when he closes the front door behind himself the two others notice his presence. 

"He talks?! Rog," He strides over to the blond and pinches his cheek. "You talk?"

John eagerly nods. Though he's still shaken from the afternoon. Very on edge about letting go of Roger, or having to tell Freddie about his mistake on Oxford Street. 

"Yes." Roger shyly admits. His cheeks heating up when Freddie widely beams at him. 

"That's amazing Darling!" He gasps. Peppering Rogers face with kisses until they're both a giggling mess. Still Roger clutches Johns shirt tightly and his legs stay wrapped around johns waist. "I'm so proud!"

He pulls back to glance at his husband. Freddie's eyes bright with happy tears.

John can feel himself choking up too when Freddie leans in to kiss his lips briefly.

"How did you manage to get him to talk?"

John sighs, not even trying to hide this from Freddie. He knows he can’t but he prefers nit to sob in front of their son. "Long story, Rog and I went shopping-"

While John tells Freddie about his misstep during dinner and while they’re watching television together, Roger sits on Johns lap and won't let go of him. Either nuzzling against his side or neck. If not, he's clutching desperately onto his shirt or pants. 

Afraid to be left alone yet again.

Freddie listens, and is understanding for John. Holding him and comforting him, because the shock still hasn’t completely left him. It makes him hold onto his kid tightly. 

“It’s okay Darling, it could have been me. It’s not anyones fault.” He smiles and kisses both their noses.

“You can always hold into daddy or papa’s coat, okay Rog?”

Roger nods, but he is nuzzled against Johns chest, already half asleep. 

~~~

Roger doesn’t usually think of leaving the house. He doesn’t know any better.

He has his mattress for comfort, the television to keep him entertained and his mother to worry about. 

But it’s at times when she forgets to feed him. Forgets to pay the electricity bill so Roger is left to stare blankly at the wall all day. Or when she is passed out on the couch, motionless and pale.

Those are the times Roger dares to inch closer to the door.

Wondering if there’s food, light or love on the other side. 

Because that’s what he craves on those shallow lonely days. He doesn’t want to stare at his mothers fragile body, arms bruised and bones jutting out of her skin.

He wants someone to care. Whatever that feels like. 

It’s those days that Roger, on his shaking legs dares to walk over to the door. His steps growing heavier the closer he gets. 

He eyes the doorknob uneasily. Wondering if his sweaty hands could turn it. Wondering if his mother won’t wake up at the noise of their squeaky door opening.

Roger takes a deep breath. His hands trembling as he stands on the tips of his toes to turn the the copper knob.

Before he even manages to get a good grip, he is snatched away with a screech.

“What are you doing?!”

She hits him.

Roger tries to curl up in a ball to soften the blows. But she is angry. Her hands shaming with panic as her flat palm collides with his face. 

Again and again.

“Don’t you understand? If you leave this door they will take you from me. You won’t see me again!” 

Roger begins to cry. From the pain and the sting of her words. She sounds so hurt, upmost betrayed by his almost escape. 

“They will rip us apart! Is that what you want?” Roger shakes his head no. Tears streaming down his face. 

“Then don’t leave this flat.”

She watches him with fire in her eyes. Her grip on his surprisingly strong for her fragile form.

It hurts. His cheeks are flaming hot and his arms bruise from her clutching him. He can hardly breathe at the sight of her mad glare. 

“Don’t leave your mum, Roger. I’ve done everything for you. Don’t leave me.” 

She sobs. Suddenly breaking down and wrapping her arms around him. Forcing him into a tight hug against her heaving chest. 

“I love you so much Roger. What else do you want?” She cries in his hair.

“Nothing mommy.” He promises quietly. Guilt scraping at his conscious as he lays his flaming cheek against her torso. His entire body trembling as he wraps his arms around her neck. 

“Then stop being so selfish.”

He sniffles. “I’m sorry mommy.”

~~~

“But papa, we read this book ten times! I know everything that’s going to happen already.” 

The funny thing is, ever since Roger began to talk, he never shuts up again. 

“But why did you keep picking that one out for weeks?” Freddie chuckles, poking Rogers side teasingly before he gets up to grab them another book. 

“Because I thought _you_ liked it.”

Roger smiles up at him. Ducking his head into shoulders shyly when Freddie coos down at him. 

“You- you’re such an extraordinary kid.” He grabs a book from a pile of unread books next to Rogers bed, before climbing back in and kissing his sons forehead. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Roger whispers without missing a beat. Cuddling into Freddie’s side to get cozy. 

Freddie has to squeeze his eyes closed for a moment to keep himself calm. Tears prickling in the corners of his eyes. 

He cuddles Roger closer by wrapping an arm around him. 

“What book did you pick papa?” 

Freddie clears his throat. “Why don’t you tell me dear. Did you practice reading with your tutor?” 

He rubs Rogers arm encouragingly as Roger frowns at the cover of the book in Freddie’s lap.

“Mm... Yeah.”

Freddie smiles. “Give it a go. What’s the book called?” 

Roger looks at the cover drawing. It’s a tubby orange cat, smiling happily at him. 

But Roger isn’t smiling back.

He keeps looking at the book in serious concentration. A small frown between his furrowed brows. 

Freddie bites his tongue to keep himself from spoiling it. He needs to give Roger a chance to read it himself.

Under the blankets, Roger kicks out his legs in frustration and he grumbles. With an annoyed huff he hides his face into Freddies arm.

“You do it.”

“Darling,” Freddie laughs breathily at the order. Poking Rogers side again to get him to look up. “Tell me whats wrong?”

“Can’t read it.” Roger grumbles again. Face half mashed against Freddies skin. “I’m stupid.”

Gasping, Freddie forces Roger to look at him. “Oh no dear! You’re definitely not. You’re the smartest person I know.”

“No.” Roger disagrees simply. “That’s Daddy.”

Freddie laughs, pinching Rogers chubby cheek affectionately. “Okay true, but he’s the only exception. You are so smart.”

Roger doesn’t seem too convinced. His face twisting at the book in distaste and insecurity.

“Try again, darling. For Papa.”

Roger groans. Pulling the book away from Freddie’s lap into his own.

He frowns down at the cover. His eyes squinting more and more with every passing second he is scanning the paper.

Freddie watches in quiet awe as Roger inches closer to the book and his eyes finally- finally focusing on the letters displayed on the cover.

It’s only when Rogers nose practically hits the paper when he utters the first words out in hesitation.

“W H A-a T.” Roger squints, before repeating. “What is... C H A S ING- chah sing?” 

He looks up at Freddie, who smiles down at him proudly.

“Chasing, you’re doing so well Rog. I’m so proud.”

Roger flushes under the praise, quickly turning back to the book to finish. 

“D U C K.” He says with a satisfied smile. “What is cha-sing. Duck!” 

Freddie grins as much ad Roger. Wrapping two arms around his kid to hug him close.

“I knew you had it in you! You have to show this to Daddy tomorrow. He’ll love it.”

Freddie can’t stop himself from smiling while Roger continues to read the first page id the book. It’s going excruciatingly slow, and Roger is practically cross eyed from having to hold the book so close to his face-

But Freddie feels intense relief for being able to say that Roger doesn’t have an inability to learn- he’s just visually impaired.

He’s already thinking of the adorable glasses he’s going to design for him, while Roger letter by letter tells Roger the story about the duck.

Up until his words become slurred and his head lulls to the side with sleep. And Freddie tucks him in for the night, with a loving kiss to the brow. 

~~~

One.

Two.

Three.

Four....

Roger couldn’t keep track of time after day five. 

Maybe six, could be seven, possibly eight. Bur it felt like forever. 

He’s hungry. He’s never been so hungry before in his life. He shivers with the force of cramps rippling through his stomach.

Everything attached to his body aches. The cold is biting him.

His mother hasn’t been home. 

After whatever day Roger had lost the energy to cry.

He’s already raved through all the cupboards. Crawled in to eat every crumb of food he can find. He’s gone desperate enough to search his mothers room as well.

But there’s nothing left. No food, no mother.

Roger is left laying on his mattress. Feeling hollow to the core. His heart beating too slowly. 

His energy levels are too low to do anything about it. It’s takes him too much energy to think of a plan. A way to safe himself.

It’s not that he doesn’t care, Roger simply can’t find the brain power to think of a plan. A solution.

She should have been back. She shouldn’t go for so long.

Roger has never been alone for such a long time. He’s never been so incredibly hungry.

It’s the deadly hours of complete silence that leaves his ears ringing loudly. It’s the never ending starvation that makes him cold and sweaty at the same time.

He knows, despite being only five years old, that he’s dying. He knows that this is what dying feels like. It can’t be much different than the world growing faint and far away. 

It’s what he waits for. Day in day out. Not even able to see the sun go up or down behind the blacked out windows. Not able to turn the television on because nobody paid the electrician bill. 

The last time he saw his mother she had kissed his cheek, told him she loved him. She would miss him.

It’s been days. Longer than a week since then.

It’s the very last time he ever sees his mother.

There’s a loud knock on the door, from the outside. If Roger could, he would have sat upright on his mattress. But he can’t been roll over to watch the door.

A loud make voice carries through the walls. “Open up! Police.” He yells. Banging the door again. 

Roger feels tears of relief roll down his hollowed out cheeks. 

“I said police! Open up.”

~~~

Roger sits up in his bed with a gasp.

The memory so fresh in his mind that he needs a moment to catch his breath. To remember that he isn’t hungry.

He’s full. John had cooked dinner for them all. Roger isn’t on his mattress, he has his own room. His own bed.

Roger sniffles. He wonders why he still feels so sad, despite having the food. Despite sleeping comfortably.

The painful memory has tears streaming down his cheeks. 

He should he happy now. With his new dads and warm home. He’s never hungry, never alone.

Most of the time Roger _is_ happy. 

It’s just that sometimes he wishes he couldn’t remember everything that had happened before. That he wouldn’t feel bad about never saying goodbye to his mommy.

With a heavy sigh, Roger slides out of bed. His bare feet pattering quietly over the wooden floors across the hallway. 

He knocks on the door, before he enters. Out if habit.

There’s snores and breathing coming from his daddies room. But no protest.

He hesitantly knocks again. Nervously slipping his thumb between his lips to suck.

It’s not that he needs an invitation to come inside. His dads don’t have any rules for entering the room.

Roger is too sad to go back into his own bed. He’s too tired to keep standing there in the cold.

Gently, Roger pushes the door open enough for him to slip inside. 

His fathers don’t wake up when he enters, or when he climbs onto the huge King sizes bed.

Roger hums once he’s on top of the blankets. Seeing through droopy eyes that his fathers are tangled into a warm hug.

Freddie with his arms around John, spooning him lovingly as he snores against his neck. While John drools on the pillow beneath him. 

They’re cozy and calm. 

Roger feels himself gravitating towards them. Needing the same comfort. 

He lets himself wriggle between Johns arms, pressing himself against his fathers warm chest, on top of the blankets.

He keeps moving and curling up until he is comfortable. He is still sucking his thumb lazily while he drifts off. Eyes falling closed as Freddie’s snores lull him to sleep.

Sighing, Roger melts against Johns chest. The sadness gone now that he’s with his two guardians. 

“Sleep well daddy.” Roger whispers in slurred speech. Already half gone before he finishes.

He doesn’t expect two arms wrap around him to hold him closer, before he completely drowns in the darkness. Soft lips press to Rogers forehead. 

He knows he’s in good hands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OMG HI TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK SEND ME A COMMENT YOU GUYS KNOW I LIVE OFF OFNCOMMENTS GIVE ME ONE WHAY DID YOU THINK??? Also hit me up on tumblr @emmaandorlando to talk about Queen, fics, asks, prompts? Anything you want.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, so you made it to the end?  
> Would you please leave a comment so I know what everyone likes and if people would read more? You guys are the best. Thank you so much for reading.
> 
> Please follow me on Tumblr and we can be friends! @emmaandorlando You can check out my blog where I post Queen edits, prompts, fic updates and moodboards.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Cool Cat](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17557967) by [CrazyEyebrows](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrazyEyebrows/pseuds/CrazyEyebrows)
  * [Family Together](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17870807) by [MacandLacy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MacandLacy/pseuds/MacandLacy)




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